Eggrolls, Cock & Things
by EreshkigalGirl
Summary: A bet goes awry when the institute stdents decide to cross-dress for a day. Hook ups and general squishyness are iminant.
1. The Challenge

A/N: Hello, and welcome to another co-written story by Panther Nesmith and me. But, wait! The last one I read as a co-written thing with Panther was by a writer named Loupgarou42. How can this be? It is because, my dears, I changed my pen name. I'm sorry to confuse you.  
  
A/N 2: This story takes place after Magneto's Mutants' Day Off, which takes place after Revenge By Verbal Flaying. Yes, this is a shameless plug. This one stands alone, though, so you don't need to go read the others. Just know that Remy's at the Institute, Pyro's with the Brotherhood, and no one really knows where Piotr is. It's a mystery. Oh, and, in case you're completely dense, Roberto only has about half his foot still in the closet and we have a surprise character who's well on his way to joining him. Aw! Squish! Absolutely NO OC's though, I swear!!!!!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I own ziltch. Not a durn thing. Wish I did, cuz I'd be making actual money, then.  
  
And so, the story begins one morning, let's say it's about 7:22 AM, at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters:  
  
Jean was sitting on the edge of her bed, holding a pair of panty-hose that she had just discovered had a huge run in one leg. Of course, she didn't discover this until she had put them on and slipped on her shoes, intending to be on time. But no, fate was being a bitch today. And, to top it all off, she was running late for her first class at the university.  
  
Scott knocked on her door, trying to be polite, but his car was in the shop after Tabitha had "gone to get milk" and Jean was supposed to give him a ride to his first class, too. Now they were both going to be late.  
  
"I'll be down in a minute, Scott!" she called through the door. "I have to find a new pair of panty-hose!"  
  
[Why do women always take so long to get dressed?!] Scott wondered to himself, stomping back down the hall to wait in the kitchen.  
  
Everyone was crowded into the industrial sized space that still seemed about the size of a middle class family room when so many people were trying to get breakfast. They were in several different states of awake and eating. It looked like something out of National Geographic.  
  
Rogue sat in a chair at the table looking unhappy and trying to eat her Pop Tart in peace. She had forgotten to do her laundry the night before and thus had no clean shirts beside a tube top Kitty had given Rogue to annoy her the last time she had forgotten to do her wash, and a sheer over shirt to, ya know, stop that whole power-absorption thing she was so angsty about. Even if she'd decided to take the rest of her high school courses at home and get her GED, meaning that no one other than the other students would actually see her wearing the tube top, she still would have liked to borrowed a flannel shirt from Logan. The Institute boys, however, liked the tube top, but they were at least smart enough not to say anything out loud.  
  
With absolutely no time to spare, Jean rushed into the room wearing only one shoe still, and TK'ed a strawberry Pop Tart to her. She was followed by Amara, who was still putting on her make-up. Scott sighed in annoyance and scanned the entire female population of the Institute like they were crazy and he couldn't believe that any living being would be this slow.  
  
"How difficult is it to get dressed in the morning?" he asked.  
  
Every girl in the room turned a death glare on him.  
  
"Please, Scott," Jean sneered at him. "You have no idea how stressful it is. Not only do you have to put on up to two extra layers of clothes depending on the weather- try wearing a bra under a tank top in the summer- but you have to dress so that you look good, without crossing that boundary into sluttiness."  
  
"Unless that's your plan," Tabby grinned. "Then you got a whole new set of guidelines to follow." "Exactly..." Jean said, a small frown between her brows. "You have to be socially acceptable, let's put it that way."  
  
"A-hem!" Rogue cleared her throat. "Or not socially acceptable, dependin'."  
  
"As one chooses," Jean ceded.  
  
The guys rolled their eyes and still didn't believe a word of it. They were so tired of hearing how bad girls had it. They wanted to be treated like equals, then pulled this crap. It wasn't fair, and it didn't make any sense whatsoever.  
  
"Come on," Remy smirked, leaning back to give the room a good view of his innate yumminess. "I get dressed in under a half hour. An' y' t'ink it's easy t' look dis hot on a daily basis?"  
  
Rogue looked him over. Loose, faded jeans over his usual construction boots, and a T-shirt. "Yup."  
  
"Ouch!" Bobby laughed.  
  
"Don't get me started on you," she snapped.  
  
After the laughter in the room died down, Scott issued a challenge, eager to show his team leader superiority (cough complex cough). "How much do you want to bet that any guy here could get completely dressed- shoes and all, Jean- in half the time it usually takes you girls?"  
  
"Ooo!" Tabitha leaned forward. "Now thems be some fightin' words, Summers. Whatcha got to back it up?"  
  
"A day of the guys wearing the girls cloths, and the girls free to wear the guys cloths," Scott said. "The winner pulls off the look the longest and with the shortest amount of time clocked getting ready."  
  
"Um," Sam said, looking uncomfortable. "Ah'm not sure Ah wanna wear girls cloths, man."  
  
"Not sure?" Kitty asked. "Meaning that you've, like, thought about it before?"  
  
Everybody, except Sam of course, laughed.  
  
"If the girls are willing to take up the challenge, what would we win when you end up taking hours longer than we trained professionals do?" Jean asked her over-confident boyfriend.  
  
"We'll be your slaves for a week!" Bobby jumped in.  
  
The boys tried to shut him up, but Jean already knew the girls thoughts. They were planning manual labor in the form of chores and bringing them snacks, whereas Bobby had been thinking dirtier thoughts that would not get realized even in his wildest dreams.  
  
"Done," she said. "And if you win we'll-"  
  
"Strip f'r us," Remy cut her off. "In private. De guy gets to say how far his fille goes."  
  
He moved to the back of the room with his back to the wall and managed to avoid getting lynched.  
  
"So ya sayin' that whatevah girl ya pick fo' yo' clothin' donah has t' take off as much a' her cloths as the guy wants?" Rogue asked, just to make sure she heard him correctly so that she could kill him for it later just on principle.  
  
"Yeah," he smirked. "Tit f' tat, an' all dat, an' I gave de tat already."  
  
"Until someone made him stop," Tabby grumbled, a wistful expression on her face.  
  
Rogue was about to jump to her feet and throw her hands up like a Baptist minister she'd known in Mississippi, and shout "Hell, no!" when Amara, strangely enough, took the lead for the girls.  
  
"Hell yes! Let's do it! I'm not used to not having servants."  
  
Before two minutes were up, everyone had a partner. Remy was the only one with the balls to take on Rogue. Kurt had been called by Kitty due to his size. She didn't want her clothes getting stretched out! Jean and Scott looked at each other competitively, each one envisioning their victory. Sam had somehow wound up with Jubilee, Amara tagged Jamie, Roberto was claimed by Tabitha, and Bobby squared off with Rahne.  
  
They agreed to meet after everyone was back from school to pick out clothing for Saturday.   
  
The first chapter is a little slow, I know. Panther and I apologize. Or, she would if she were here. Stick with it, it gets better, I promise. Go review and set the karmic circle in motion. 


	2. Little Bit o' ROMY

Pre-A/N: To everyone who reviewed- WE LOVE YOU!!!! Thanks so much, and we love hearing from you. It would take too long to respond to everyone, and you probably just want to get on with the story anyway. Here we go!  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing. Nada. Ziltch.  
  
7: 46 AM  
  
The Professor looked out the window in his office and saw that none of the students had left for school yet. They were already late. If they didn't leave soon they would miss all of first period. He reminded everyone, rather pointedly, that they would not be getting excuses if they were late to class, so everyone scurried out the door that was going out the door. That left the Institute filled only with Logan, Ororo, the Prof, Rogue, and Remy- since he saw no need to go to school in the first place.  
  
After lunch, when Rogue had finished her daily required work to earn her GED, Remy decided to stalk her for a few hours. He was bored, and it was too much fun to pass up. She was such a bad sport about teasing, and it was fun to watch her get all flustered and angry, just so long as she didn't get too angry. Then she was scary and needed a little alone time.  
  
"Come on, chere, we're de o'ly ones here, ya doan hafta play hard t' get anymore," he cajoled, knowing it would piss her off.  
  
"Who's playin'?" she snapped at him.  
  
"Me, always," he smirked.  
  
"How 'bout this: Ah go find out what ya gonna wear on Sataday? Bet that'll be interestin'," she challenged.  
  
"I get to go int' y'r room wit'out ya yellin' at me? Done."  
  
Rogue glared at him, wondering how she got herself into these situations with this guy. "Ah hate you."  
  
"I c'n work wit' dat."  
  
In Rogue's room, she pawed through her nearly barren closet and laundry hamper looking for something that would fit him and she wouldn't mind burning after he gave it back. Of course, knowing him, he may want to keep it as a souvenir. Shudder  
  
"Remembah, swamp rat," she told him, "ya gotta dress just like Ah, do. That includes the make-up."  
  
"I know, cherie," he said. "An' you remember dat I doan wear make-up, so neither c'n you on Saturday."  
  
Rogue grumbled under her breath and slung a few hangers aside with more force than needed. After she had looked from one end of her closet to the other, and the top of her clothes hamper to the bottom, Rogue made a discovery.  
  
"Damn it. Nuthin' Ah have is baggy enough foh ya t' wear without stretchin' it out."  
  
"I'll take dat as a compliment," he leered.  
  
She sneered and made a disgusted noise between her teeth. Suddenly she had a wicked idea and broke into a grin. She knew exactly what she was going to put him in.  
  
"Rogue?" Remy asked, kinda worried.  
  
"Ah don' even care if it gets stretched out," she said to herself gleefully as she went to her dresser and dug around in the back of one of the drawrs. She brought out a black vinyl corset with silver bondage hoops going down the front in two parallel lines.  
  
Remy's eyes got wide. "Why doan ya wear that on a daily basis, chere. Nobody'd complain."  
  
"Shut up," she told him, still maliciously giddy. Rogue went back to her closet and pulled out a skirt that she'd passed by in her original search. She'd probably never be able to wear it again, but this was going to be worth it. It was a black vinyl lace-up skirt that was short on her; it would be very very short on the swamp rat. This was too much fun.  
  
On a whim, she grabbed the matching pair of dominatrix boots- not that she'd ever used them for the intended porpose, but it was fun to show up at the club and let everyone know what she was capable of. They would never fit Remy, but that was just too damn bad for him.  
  
Once the complete outfit was shown to Remy, he was more than a little nervous. How did she expect him to get into those heels? How did she expect him to be able to walk in those heels? How the hell did you put that skirt on; he was pretty sure he could get it off a girl without much fumbling, but on was another matter.  
  
He looked her in the eye, rising to the challenge. "Follow me."  
  
Rogue shoved the clothes into his arms and smirked. "Lead the way."  
  
In Remy's room, Rogue plopped down on the corner of his still-unmade bed and crossed her arms in front of her stomach while he dropped her clothes and started looking through his own.  
  
"Alright, Cajun, impress me."  
  
He couldn't resist the temptation. Remy smirked back at Rogue and said, "Chere, I'd be takin' clothes off ya f'r dat."  
  
"Just gimme y'r clothes, LeBeau."  
  
Remy grinned wider and started pulling up the hem of his T-shirt.  
  
"From the closet, retard," Rogue said.  
  
He chuckled and moved over to the dresser. He pulled out a pair of his boxers. Rogue balked.  
  
"Wait! Ah hafta wear y'r undahwear, too?" she asked. "We never agreed t' that!"  
  
"Yeah, ya do," he insisted. "I mean, ya supposed t' dress like me, an' I put these on ev'ry mornin', so..."  
  
"Don't ya just sleep in 'em?" rogue asked.  
  
One corner of Remy's mouth quirked up. All he did was shake his head. Rogue got the picture, and oh, what a picture it was. (A/N: lets savor for a moment, shall we?) Rogue blushed and had to look away for a minute. She cleared her throat and fired back at him.  
  
"Then you hafta wear panties."  
  
Remy faltered for a second. He wasn't really into wearing chick's underwear. "But, ya underwear isn'... well, big enough," he pointed out. "I mean, b'side ya ass bein' a kinda- never mind."  
  
Rogue jumped to her feet. "Are you sayin' Ah got a fat ass?!?"  
  
[Merde. How'd I get int' dis?] he thought to himself. "Naw, chere, not at all."  
  
"Ya implied it!" she snapped.  
  
"I like ya ass," Remy assured her. "I t'ink it's perfect. A nice firm apple- ass, nothin' better in de world."  
  
Rogue was about to say something else when it occurred to her that that was a compliment of some kind. That was very confusing. "Ah have no idea what tah do with that, so let's just move on, huh?"  
  
"Fine." Remy put the boxers back. He had no doubt that she'd make him wear panties if he forced her to put the boxers on. Instead, he pulled out a tattered wife-beater (1).  
  
"Unless, o'course, you still have dat one ya stole from me?" he smirked at her. She rolled her eyes, but didn't look directly at him.  
  
He picked a pair of grungy jeans that had holes in the knees and on the back near the edges of the pockets up off of his floor. He found a pair of Converse sneakers with the soles worn thin under his bed. He almost added his beloved trench coat, but thought better of it.  
  
Rogue took the clothes, but looked up at him expectantly. "Well?"  
  
"Well what?"  
  
"Ah cain't just wear this!" she held up the undershirt. "It's too thin, ya c'n see right through it. Not gonna work if ya gonna made me go without a bra."  
  
Remy hadn't taken that into account. He mulled that thought over. It was a good thought....  
  
"Gettcha mind back here NOW!" she told him, smacking him on the side of the head. "An' second of all, Ah need long sleeves." Rogue realized something. "Yo gonna need gloves."  
  
Remy shook his head while he headed to his closet for something with sleeves. "M' powers doan need 'em."  
  
"Lemme wear a bra an' Ah'll let the gloves go," Rogue tried to negotiate.  
  
Remy grinned over his shoulder at Rogue fiendishly, pulling out the black button-down shirt with red dice and Lucky 13 on it that Rogue had called "Wannabe goth" the night he'd stripped for the girls while he was still working for Magneto (2).  
  
"Chere, I'll take de gloves."  
  
She scowled and wrenched away the shirt, storming out. Post-A/N: Okay, so, how did you like the all ROMY chap? Didn't seem very romantic, you say? You need to read between the lines, and besides, they still hardly know each other, and Remy is Remy, so it's gonna take 'em a little time.  
  
(1)- Somebody- I'm sorry, I can't remember who! Ahhh!- asked what a wife beater is in the last story, Magneto's Mutants/Acolytes (I can never remember which. See a pattern here?) Day Off. It's a kinda muscle shirtish lookin' white cotton undershirt that some guys wear under their regular shirts. Very sexy on the right body.  
  
(2)- Another reference to MM/ADO. Yes, he stripped for them. That was also where Rogue stole his wife beater. It was good. You should go read it. I said this story stands alone, and it does, but there have to be some past references, ya know. There, you're all caught up. 


	3. Pants or a skirt?

Pre-A/N: Thanks to everybody who reviewed! Sorry it took so long to up- date, but I was away visiting my college this past weekend. University of Evansville, woot, woot! Go Purple Aces! Then Monday I was working on a side project, so bob's yer uncle, or whatever.  
  
I only have one person to write back and all I have to say is: Panther! We can't put Zap-Collar Conspiracy up! We really would warp the poor chillun's little minds. Of course, if you wanted to put it up (subliminal message) under your screen name, and in your universe, I have no power to stop you....  
  
Disclaimer- What's the point?  
  
Now we're after school lets out, let's say it's about 3:26PM.  
  
Everyone rushed home and started making plans. Jean took the lead and went to find Scott something suitably girly to wear. He followed her to her room, not trusting her not to put him in something really horrible and completely un-wearable.  
  
"Okay, Scott," Jean said, hands planted on hips and a little smile of challenge on her mouth. "Pants or a skirt?"  
  
"Your choice, Jean," he smirked, innately knowing that his girlfriend wouldn't have the nerve to humiliate him. Too much, anyway.  
  
"A skirt then," Jean decided. "That means that you'll have to shave your legs."  
  
Scott's eyebrows shot up behind his red glasses, the only way Jean could tell that his eyes had suddenly gone wide with horror. She started to grin and ended up laughing.  
  
[Rogue was right, evil laughter is fun.]  
  
"Now I'll find you some make-up....Well, maybe just lipstick," she amended. "Come here."  
  
A few minutes later, Scott was trying to put on red lipstick. Jean was trying not to bust a gut. He was having a hard time seeing where he was putting the lipstick on due to his glasses, and he had it all over his lips. Especially where it wasn't supposed to be.  
  
Jean took pity on him and started trying to wipe the worst of the lipstick away with her fingers. Scott was indignant. He didn't need her damn pity! But he was tempted to suck on one of her fingers. He restrained. This was war, after all. ------------------------------------------------------------ ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------  
  
Jubilee was chucking things out of her closet like made while Jamie looked lost.  
  
"Maybe this one. Or this one. Or, how about this one? OOooo! Or this one?"  
  
Jamie sighed and tried to find something that wasn't too pink. Or had flowers. Or cute little animals on the front. Or anything that even resembled a skirt.  
  
"Oh!" Jubes exclaimed all of a sudden. "We should use glitter make-up on you! It'll be so cute, Jamie!" --------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------  
  
Amara held up a pair of strategically faded flair denim jeans that Sam hopefully wouldn't completely ruin when he wore them, and a pink tube-top. Sammy just cringed.  
  
"Maybe if you wore the blue scrunch-shirt," she mused. "It would bring out your eyes."  
  
"Ah like my eyes where they are," Sam grumbled. How did he get roped into this? He didn't even want a girl stripping for him! It would be too weird. --------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Rahne was grumbling for another reason.  
  
"How did I get stuck with you? You're too big for everything I own."  
  
"Hey, that's the way the ice melts," Bobby shrugged, smiling.  
  
Rahne sighed and looked through everything that she owned. "Well....Maybe this dress I have would take it the best."  
  
"Dress?"  
  
"It's short, so I'd have to shave- so, so do you," she insisted.  
  
"Shave!?!" ----------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"You have any preferences?" Tabitha asked Roberto.  
  
"Nothing that screams 'slut' too loudly?" he shrugged.  
  
"Ooo, tough order," Tabby laughed. "How 'bout you go look and see what you come up with, then I'll tell you if it looks good on you? Oh, and I want that shirt I lent you from last week back."  
  
"Alright, alright," he said. "It's in the wash, so it'll get back to you soon."  
  
"Good. Go to it," Tabitha told him and flopped down on her bed to read the new issue of Cosmo.  
  
"What about make-up?" Roberto asked.  
  
"In the vanity," Tab directed looking up to consider. "You'd look great in the white eye liner and Freshwater Pearl eye shadow. Maybe use Coco, or Mocha Latte to go with it."  
  
"Just great," the boy sighed. ---------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------------------  
  
Kurt had stayed after school to talk to Amanda without her parents finding out. They were going on a brief date through the park on the way home. Consequently, Kitty was put off finding him something to wear until after dinner. At 5:00 they had a DR session, and Kurt just bamf-ed in at 4:52, so there was no time. since dinner was at 6:00.  
  
"I'll like so get you for this, smurf boy..." She thought to herself as she headed down to the Danger Room.$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$  
  
Post-A/N: It's short, I know, but it was the only way I could think to mush together a couple of different notebook pages of Panther's and my writing. It all made sense while we were creating it, but it was all disjointed when I tried to type it. So I put a few parts together that weren't written together, and that kind of thing. It'll be a lot easier to put things together after dinner. And more ROMY. Sensing a theme here? 


	4. A Shower and an Arguement

Pre-A/N: As always, thanks to everybody who reviewed, and especially those of you who keep reviewing. They've trickled off as of last chapter. I hate that. Oh, just a warning, I break in a lot this chapter. I try not to, but sometimes... Anyway, you can ignore if you want. And, for Kurt's sake, I'd just like to apologize for his accent. It's kind of bad. I know. Don't throw tomatoes, or anything.  
  
Pandora's Sorrow: Rogue will be evil. There's an eyelash curler involved. And other fun evils that you'll just have to keep reading to find out about.  
  
Rogue4787: Woot for the ROMY!!! I'm so angry Gambit wasn't in either of the movies. So is Panther. We've had long conversations and come up with a plan. If our lovely Remy-boy isn't in the third movie, we're forming a mob and attacking Marvel. Care to join?  
  
Okay, back to the story. I plan on having a lot of fun with the first part of this chap. We start this chapter after the Danger Room session, in the guys' shower room. With the guys showering. Fell free to take a moment...Alright!  
  
As the guys- stoically avoiding looking at each other (A/N: Guy thing, from what I understand)- lathered up with soap (A/N: Stay with me, now!), they all shared horror stories, grumbled about the stuff they had to wear for cross-dressing day. All except Kurt, who didn't know yet, and Remy, who wasn't talking for some reason. Finally Sam decided that he had to know. They all needed to know that Remy had it ten times worse than the rest of them.  
  
"Come on," Sam pried, reaching for the shampoo. "Rogue put ya in somethin' awful. Admit it!"  
  
Remy thought about the outfit that Rogue had picked out for him as he rinsed off the soap from his shoulders. (A/N: are you drooling yet?) "It's a skirt. Dere are four inch heels I gotta squeeze int'. Awful enough fo' ya?"  
  
The rest of the guys pondered the subtle implications of what Rogue's choice of skirts and four inch heels could be. There were a couple of shudders, along with more than one guy adjusting the water temperature down a couple of degrees.  
  
A few minutes later, Scott was cleaning between his toes and remembered that Jean had insisted that he had to shave his legs. He mentioned this out loud.  
  
"Yeah, Amara's puttin' me in caprees- after changin' her mind about twen'y times," Sam groused, "an' makin' me shave mah legs, too. How'd Ah get roped int' this?"  
  
Scott ignored the question and took a poll over the noise of the running water hitting the blue tiles. Remy, Bobby, and Roberto all said that they had to shave their legs, too.  
  
"Can't be that different from shaving your face, right?" Bobby asked, hoping he'd get agreement.  
  
"Whadda you know about shavin' y'r face?" Remy asked.  
  
Bobby was laughed at by all the guys in the shower room. How humiliating.  
  
It was Roberto who spoke up. "Actually, though..."  
  
They got quiet and sent the boy sideways glances. 'Berto shrugged, a little embarrassed, poking at the drain cover with his big toe, and said, "I have a cousin who's a swimmer. He has to shave to reduce water drag." He got lots of "yeah, right"'s and "uh-huh"'s.  
  
"Look, whatever," Scott said. "I won't lose to Jean in this. If you know how, Roberto, show me how to do it."  
  
Roberto couldn't resist the innuendo. "Well..." he smirked and the floor. Again, there were lots of weird looks flicked at him. He picked up on this and got defensive. "Oh, what? If Remy had said it you'd all be laughing."  
  
"Yeah, but I doan know how t' shave my legs," Remy pointed out.  
  
'Berto shrugged self-consciously and told them what his cousin the swimmer had told him about the shaving of the legs. Scott went and got his razor and tried it out on his ankle, just to make sure he could do it.  
  
"Ow! I nicked myself! It's still bleeding!"  
  
"Pansy..." Remy muttered.  
  
After everyone was sweat-free after their showers, Kitty was waiting to waylay Kurt in the hallway. She grabbed the blue boy by the arm, a fierce, determined expression on her face, and dragged him off.  
  
"You aren't getting out of this that easily, Kurt," she said. "If I have to, I'll make you like twenty minutes late for supper, so you like better behave."  
  
This reminded the guys that they got to pick out the girls' clothes after dinner. This could be good. They were going to be scarfing down their food faster than usual just to find the best possible combination of grunge for the girls to wear. Evil laughter all around.  
  
Most of the girls were already in the kitchen getting their spaghetti and meatballs, and discussing what they had picked out for the guys.  
  
"So, how are we gonna score this thing?" Jubilee asked.  
  
"Well, we should probably write down how long it usually takes us to get ready, and the guys should write down their times, and then we time each other," Rahne said.  
  
"That's a really good idea, Rahne," Jean smiled at the younger girl.  
  
Rahne shrugged. "Well, my mom is a scientist."  
  
"We should add minutes to the guys' scores, too," Amara said. "I mean, we do still have more hair than they do- most of us- and we have to brush it."  
  
"And I'm on the rag this week, so that adds time," Tabitha said, straight out.  
  
"An' Ah'm sure at least some o' the guys'll insist time added to ours for their mornin' jack off," Rogue said, getting the garlic bread out of the oven.  
  
The more innocent girls ewwed and shuddered, but had the feeling it might be true. (A/N: You know it's true. I mean, I've heard guys have public conversations about when they do it, how often, since what age... They're proud of it. I'm just trying to keep it real, or as real as possible.)  
  
"Okay," Jean said, TKing a grocery list and a pen to the table. "Jubilee, you started this, so we'll start with you. How long does it usually take you to get ready in the morning?"  
  
The girls went on making their time and "handicap" lists if face washing, hair brushing, pad/tampon incorporation time, etc., until Amara had a good idea.  
  
"Hey, what if we really over-did the whole 'guy' thing?" she suggested. "Like, if we 'shave' in the morning, and act like guys, and stuff?"  
  
"That could be fun," Jean said, looking to see what the other girls thought. They liked it.  
  
Eventually, the guys came in and took their seats at the table and started hogging all the food. The girls told them about the lists they'd made and, amid quite a bit of protests, told them that they could do the same, so that they had time-handicaps.  
  
Rogue picked at her food, still angry even after she had spent her afternoon avoiding Remy after he refused to let her wear a bra- and wow, that thought was a lot worse than she (A/N: or I) had intended. As she wiped her mouth off from the spaghetti sauce and came away with lipstick, she suddenly remembered that she had yet to show the Cajun how to put on make-up. This was a good thought. It meant minor torture.  
  
She looked a few seats down the table and found Remy nearly finished with his last fork-ful of spaghetti. She pushed out of her seat and went down to his chair and crossed her arms.  
  
He looked up and didn't like the look on her face. It always meant that something bad was going to happen to someone that was usually going to be funny, as long as it didn't happen to you. This time, it was going to happen to him.  
  
"Get on up, swamp rat. We'ah gonna go play with make-up."  
  
"BUMP-BUM-BAAAA!!!!" Bobby did the B-movie sound effect for the entire room.  
  
Remy nodded and got up from his seat looking like a man who was taking that long, last walk down death row to the awaiting syringes that would put him to sleep forever. Rogue rolled her eyes. What a drama king, always had to be the center of attention.  
  
When they got to the door of the room that Rogue shared with Kitty (A/N: I debated whether or not to let Rogue have her own room, but they were together in the last story, and we wrote them sharing in this story, too, so I had to) they could hear Kitty and Kurt's voices arguing. That explained why there was more food left than usual.  
  
"NINE!"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"Eet's fuzzy!"  
  
"You're fuzzy! It shouldn't be, like, that big of an adjustment!"  
  
Rogue and Remy entered to find Kitty holding up a pink, velour jogging suit with white Kedd's sneakers. Kurt was firmly shaking his head.  
  
"You know, Kitty, I could alvays just have zhe professor change my holowatch," Kurt pointed out. "Zhere's no reason for me to actually vear your clothes. Aren't you vorried I might stretch zhem out or ruin zhem or somezhing? Please? Anyzhing?"  
  
"No way," Kitty shook her head vigorously. "If I have to wear your like dirty grubby clothes, you have to wear mine."  
  
Kurt subconsciously gave Kitty a glare that reminded anyone who had gotten one from Mystique a sense of déjà vu. He snatched the jogging suit and said, "My clothes are not grubby.  
  
Rogue laughed and led the way to her vanity, where all of her usual make-up was spread across the top in neat rows. She had a thing about organization. Some called it OCD. She insisted that she'd never been diagnosed, and told everybody who implied it to screw off.  
  
She picked up one of the scariest pieces of machinery that Remy'd ever seen in his life, and he'd seen some interesting stuff in his time.  
  
"'De hell is dat?"  
  
"Eyelash curlers," Rogue informed him. She motioned to the wide stool in front of the vanity. "Sit down, won't ya?"  
  
"Said de spider t' de fly," Remy mumbled.  
  
"At least I'm not as bad as your sister," Kitty said to Kurt. "We do need to find you some make-up, though." #%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%%#%#%#%#%#%# %#%#%#%#%%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%%%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%  
  
Post-A/N: How'd you like the shower scene? evil grin Oh, and, uh, I was looking back at the first chapter and I noticed that at the beginning Amara was paired up with Jamie, and Sam was with Jubes, and then I wrote that Jubilee was chucking clothes out of her closet for Jamie, and Amara was holding up clothes to Sam. Let's leave it the second way, and I apologize for the mix-up. 


	5. Being Truly MALE

PRE-A/N: Thanks to reviewers. There won't be nearly as many break-ins by me this chap.  
  
Ry: Do you realize you're the only guy to say that you are, in fact, a guy. There may be others that have/are reviewing, but nobody who's said anything. They're all carefully disguised behind clever screen names. Thanks for coming to read EC&T, and I'm really sorry that anyone ever made you have a group shower experience. I cannot imagine. It's just too horrible. But the guys at the Institute have partitions. Gotta remember that... And, last of all, it's nice to know that some guys still have a sense of decency. I was starting to get worried, quite honestly.  
  
Rogue4787: Go RHPS!!! Remy going all Frank N Furter, now there's a lovely picture. drool But, wait. Did you say two years? NOOOOO!!!! I want X3 NOW! Hell yeah, there better be ROMY if they're makin' us wait two more years for it. Don't see why they even put her with an out of character Bobby in the first place. Honestly, he broods so much he's like a mini- Scott. Ew.  
  
Childernwithblades: I'm tryin' to work more Jamie face-time in, believe me. I'm glad there's somebody out there who likes him as much as I do. He's a sweety, but I don't think he can honestly be as naïve as people think he is. He's like, what? At least fourteen now, right? Almost? What fourteen year old boy is that pure and innocent?  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. We pick up where we left off, in Rogue and Kitty's room, finding Kurt and Remy make-up for Cross-Dressing Day. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Rogue put the eyelash curlers down on the vanity and looked through her other make-up. After a few seconds she decided on a bottle of black liquid- eyeliner- impossible to use until you're used to it, some white powder cuz Remy was too tan to be a good goth, dark purple lipstick, black and green eye shadow, and, to top it off, nice black mascara.  
  
Remy took all this in and felt he had to protest. "Doan t'ink I need t' work so much t' make my eyes stand out," he muttered.  
  
Kurt flicked his tail over at Kitty's dresser while she scrounged to find just what she wanted to put on the blue boy. "At least you don't have to vear pink lip-"  
  
"Oh! I forgot!" Kitty exclaimed, grabbing the pink lipstick she'd originally gave Kurt and replacing it with a tube of fire engine red.  
  
Rogue snickered and then remembered something she'd forgotten, too. "If Ah'm gonna play, Ah'm gonna listen to music while Ah do it," she announced, walking over to the stereo system and looking through her and Kitty's combined CD collection.  
  
"Can you, like, make it kinda my style, at least while I'm like, still in here? Please?" Kitty asked nicely.  
  
Rogue smirked at the CD she'd chosen and looked back at Kitty. "You'll like Flogging Molly, Ah promise." she assured her, putting the CD in the CD player whether she liked it or not.  
  
While the first song played, Rogue gave the white powder to Remy and made him prove he was competent enough to handle that much. He was. She picked up the eyelash curlers again, despite the face that the mascara was sthe self-curling kind. This was more fun. He flinched and glared at her, noticing the scary eyelash curlers were back in her hand.  
  
"'S a miracle ya doan puttcher eye out, chere," he said in defeat.  
  
It only took one minute and thirteen seconds for Rogue to re-evaluate her view that all men are babies. Now, it was just non-got ones. And Remy that was the biggest baby of them all. He kept leaning back away from her every time she came near him. It was annoying in most people when they did that to her; to have Remy, who never took a step back, who always pushed forward, do it was damn near infuriating.  
  
Remy tried to avoid charging the eyeliner brush while she was using it on him, but it was scary, and she'd eventually had to hit him with it and get him to un-charge it so that they didn't all die. Now she was trying to paint on eyeliner.  
  
"Quit flinchin'!"  
  
"Y'r goan poke me in de eye!" he whined, nearly twisting away from the liquid eyeliner brush.  
  
"Stop squirmin' an' Ah won't poke ya in the eye!" she told him, trying to get him to hold still. He actually batted at her hand to keep it away from him. A short slap-fight broke out between the two of them that had Kitty and Kurt busting a gut.  
  
Realizing how stupid they both looked, they took a moment to recompose themselves. It was Remy who did this the fastest, since he had more practice at showing people what they expected to see instead of what was really there.  
  
"Gimme a reason t' stop squirmin' an' we'll see if I sit still longer," he challenged.  
  
Rogue was about to smack him again, harder this time, when it occurred to her that she might get finished with his eyes if she cooperated. At least a little. Because, once she'd started on them she found out how much fun it was. His eyes were, arguably, his best feature to begin with, but now that one was half outlined in black Rogue couldn't wait to see what the finished product would look like. It was kind of like working on a master-piece that she occasionally wanted to lick.  
  
"Ya grope me," she warned him, "an' Ah'll kill ya painfully. Remembah that."  
  
Remy was surprised. He hadn't actually expected her to let him have anything. Honestly, he was hoping to annoy her so much she'd kick him out. This could be good though. No groping; he could probably do that.  
  
Rogue was standing in front of his legs, trying to lean forward to put the make-up on, so it wasn't too much more maneuvering to put one leg on either side of his as he sat on the vanity stool so that she was standing straddling his legs, putting her body very close to his. It actually made putting the eyeliner on easier, since she was now a little bit closer to his face. Remy was just happy with the view through her sheer shirt and down her tube top. This would actually have been a whole lot sexier if she hadn't been holding an eyeliner bottle, and if she was looking more like a young Mae West beckoning to the camera than like Picasso studying one of his works. As it was, it was just mildly enjoyable.  
  
"You c'n put ya hands on the outside of mah legs, or on mah waist," she instructed him. "No highah, no lowah, watch ya fingers, hold still, an' look up."  
  
Remy debated and finally decided to go for the outsides of Rogue's thighs as the safest place, while she applied the eyeliner underneath the eyelashes on his lower lids. "Don't blink fo' a minute or it'll get messed up," she told him, and lightly blew on the make-up to help it dry faster. When she leaned back and took in the product so far, her mouth dropped a little.  
  
"Wow," Rogue sighed, a smile of awe and satisfaction in her work blossoming on her face. "That's so cool." And that was just the eyeliner!  
  
Kitty was valiantly covering her giggles on her side of the room, while Kurt was silently fuming, wanting to protect his sister.-------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The rest of the students at the Institute got done with their dinners as quickly as possible, putting plates and glasses, clinking and clunking, into the industrial-sized dishwasher before the guys hauled the girls off to get them the clothes they would be wearing come Saturday.  
  
In Bobby's room, Rahne was being instructed on not only how to dress like, but how to be Bobby; how to capture his essential Bobby-ness.  
  
"There's a style to it," he said, trying to sound sophisticated. "A way of doing things that is me and only me."  
  
"Ach, just gimme the clothes already, ya idiot!" she yelled at him. "See if I ever choose you as my partner again."  
  
"But, you haven't learned anything yet!" he said.  
  
"Bobby, it's just jeans and a T-shirt," Rahne sighed in frustration. "How hard could it possibly be?"  
  
"What about how I gel my hair, huh?" he asked. "And, where do you wear the waist of your pants?"  
  
"Oh, grow up." ------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------- "Man, you wear your clothes tight!" Tabitha said as she held a shirt up to her chest, looking in his mirror.  
  
"Tab, you've got breasts, and I don't," Roberto pointed out from his slouching position on his twin-sized bed. "Obviously, my clothes are gonna be a little smaller on you."  
  
"Hey, I wasn't complaining," she shrugged, going to look through his pants selection. "I mean, you've seen my normal clothes."  
  
"I've worn you're normal clothes," Roberto reminded her ironically.  
  
"True," Tabby smiled. "You gonna come out to play any time soon?"  
  
He scowled at her and threw one of his pillows at her head. She saw what he was doing in the dresser mirror and just managed to catch the projectile, giggling.  
  
"Guess not, huh?" ---------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------- Jamie spent no time thinking about what Jubilee was going to wear. He briskly walked to his dresser and took out a pair of long shorts, and then went to his closet and pulled down a button-down shirt that was just a little bit big on him. He grabbed socks and an undershirt.  
  
"There anything I need to know?" Jubilee asked as she accepted the clothes.  
  
Jamie shook his head. "Nope. Unless you count that I fall down a lot."  
  
Jubes smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, a shoulder she suddenly realized was an inch higher than hers was. "Not so much, lately. It was just that weird growing-clumsiness. You haven't fallen down in, what, two weeks?"  
  
"Two and a half," Jamie said proudly. "And I only made three of me that time."  
  
Jubilee laughed. "Good job, Jamie." ---------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------- Sam spent several long, detailed minutes explaining the whole Kentucky- meets-skater persona he'd been cultivating- some would say "butchering"- to Amara, and telling her what and why she would be wearing it on Saturday.  
  
Amara had zoned out a long time ago.  
  
"Are ya even listening?" Sam asked.  
  
She jumped back into the same world that he was in and thought about saying that, of course she was listening. "No," she admitted. "No, I wasn't."  
  
He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest in utter frustration. "Wha' was the last thing ya heard?"  
  
Amara got a blank look on her face and decided to make something up. "I won't be showering in the morning?"  
  
Sam shook his head. "Just take the clothes and figyah it out on ya own." --- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------- Scott was meticulous in his choice of clothing for Jean. "Here's a pair of my shoes, socks, pants, boxers-"  
  
"Please tell me those are clean," Jean insisted, eyeing the boxers suspiciously.  
  
"That's just gross, Jean."  
  
"Yes or no, please."  
  
"Yes, they're clean," Scott assured her. "Here's pants, and undershirt, a T- shirt, and a sweater. Oh, and just to top it off, here's a spare pair of my glasses."  
  
"Gee, is there anything you might have forgotten?" Jean said sarcastically.  
  
"Yeah, now that you mention it," he grinned. "The guys talked it out on the way up from the locker room. Since we don't wear bras, you girls don't get to that day, either."  
  
"Then, you guys do have to wear a bra," she pointed out.  
  
"We can live with that." --------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------- Rogue was singing along with "Devil's Dance Floor" as she outlined Remy's mouth with purple lipliner. It'd been hell to find the stuff, so she was showing him how to use it properly.  
  
"'Swing a little more, little more o're the merry'o.' C'n ya do this on ya own?" she asked.  
  
"Yup," Remy said, trying so hard to be a saint. He'd already had to move his hand up to her waist to avoid temptation when she'd sung out the verse, "Her legs ran all the way up to heaven and past Avalon," and now she kept staring at his lips and singing about "the apple now is sweet, oh much sweeter than it ought to be." True, it wasn't sexual to her, but damned if he wasn't having some problems. ################ ##################################### Post-A/N: Those problems of Remy's will be explored next chapter. Well, I had to hook you some way, didn't I? And the song that Rogue is singing along to, "Devil's Dance Floor" by Flogging Molly? I don't own that, either.  
  
Sigh. Oh, dear. Now that I know that there's a real guy reading this, I feel like I should give the guys more credit. And bigger parts- in the story! Get your minds out of the gutter! Dirty minds, all of you...sheepish look Anyway, I went back and flushed the guys' scenes out a little. See what you did, Ry?! I ask for forgiveness, though, for both me and for Panther. As girls, we find writing guys slightly difficult and they end up kind of flat. Sorry. 


	6. Author's Apologies

Dear readers,  
  
I am an idiot. I can't believe I did that! I put up ch. 5 twice! Oh, I am so so dumb. There's a big, flashing neon sign above my head that says: DORK!!! Apologies out the frickin' wazoo. I didn't mean to do that. I just accidentally must have highlighted ch. 5 when I seriously did mean to highlight and put up ch. 6. So, as an extra apology for my being an idiot last time, you all get gold stars for pointing it out, and two chaps at the same time. Woo hoo.  
  
Again, I'm such a dork, and I'm really sorry.  
  
EreshkigalGirl 


	7. finally! Personal Issues

PRE A/N: I have decided to do this chapter's disclaimer in song.  
  
clears throat Huummm. (sings) OOOh, thank you, oooh so much! For all of the greaaaat reviews!  
  
Di-i-i-isss-claimer: The things, that aare iiin, this chaaaapter, are not miiiiiine! The chaaaaracteerrrs belong to sooomeone else! The soooong featured at the beginnnnning of the chaaaaap, belongs, to the band, Flogging Mollyyyyy!!!!  
  
coughcough Okay, never mind with the singing. Never try that again, I can promise ya that much!  
  
-Ish: Hold ya horses, sheesh! I'm goin as fast as a little bunny can, and all that crack is starting to get to me.  
  
-Jaguar: You think the guys should win? That's actually the first we've heard. Actually, Panther and I keep jumping back and forth between kinky fun and militant feminism.  
  
-RogueyMaximoff: No,no. Berto tends to wear Tabby's clothes on a regular basis. At least in our minds. Lovin' the laughter! It fuels my soul, and I swear I can feel it from here!  
  
-PomegranateQueen: Yeah, them guy reviewers drive me nuts. Er... Ya know what I mean. I appreciate that you would tell me if you were a guy.  
  
Lots of people keep asking about the Brotherhood. Keep your pants on, there gonna be in this story, just a little later. Alright, I'll give you a little spoiler- the students go to the mall to strut their cross-dressin' selves. That's where the BH comes in. Oh, and this: "blah" is Rogue singing the words to the song, and blah is just the lyrics alone. 'Kay?  
  
We jump back in near the very end of The Devil's Dance Floor, with Remy having some personal issues.  
  
"Oh, the apple now is sweet, oh, much sweeter than it ought to be," Rogue sang the lyrics along with the CD. Rogue didn't notice Remy's problem at first, totally absorbed (no pun intended) in getting the lipstick perfect.  
  
"Open ya mouth a little," she instructed him. "...I don't think there is much hope for me. The sweat beneath her brow traveled all the way and headed south."  
  
[No!] Remy thought to himself violently. [Doan look south! Dis is mo' attention dan ya've gotten from 'er since movin' in; doan blow dis. Look... past 'er!]  
  
Unfortunately, past her was looking into the mirror, which showed him a good view of Rogue's nice, round, but not-too-big, apple-ass, barely covered by a tight mini-skirt. He unconsciously flexed his hands on her hips, drawing Rogue's attention to his situation.  
  
"Ah am so not flattahed," she said with disgust.  
  
Your bleeding heart's cryin' cuz there's no way out!  
  
[An' I'm caught,] he thought. "Can' blame me f'r bein' attracted to ya, chere. 'Specially when ya practically in m' lap." He couldn't resist one more tiny squeeze of his hands, and was rewarded with feeling the muscles low in Rogue's stomach jerk.  
  
Rogue stepped out of his hands and pulled her leg from the far side of Remy's body. She gathered up the make-up she'd been using on him and only just decided not to throw it all at his head. "Out. Ah do not have ta put up with you bein' an ovah-sexed baboon."  
  
And Remy was kicked out without another word, for both of their health, he decided. Kurt and Kitty pretended to be busy when Rogue looked their way, wondering what they had to say so that she could try and kick them out, too. "What?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing," they both mumbled.  
  
"Ya thinkin' sumthin', though," Rogue pushed.  
  
Her brother cleared his throat. "Um, vell... It seemed like you vere baiting him," he admitted. "Juzt a little."  
  
"What's that supposed ta mean?!" Rogue demanded.  
  
"Come on, Rogue," Kitty said. "You like practically shoved your chest right up in his face. You couldn't expect him to just like ignore you."  
  
"So ya sayin' it's mah fault he's a pervert?" Rogue snapped.  
  
"No," Kitty sighed. "But it's like- and don't get me wrong, this isn't like all those news reports of teenage girls being super catty to people who are, like, supposed to be their friends- but I think that this is kinda like if you're walking down a dark, deserted alley at, like, 12'o'clock at night, wearing come-screw-me clothing, don't, like, be surprised if some guy doesn't try to take advantage of that. It doesn't make the guy any less responsible for being a scumbag, but, well, you kinda helped precipitate the problem, ya know?"  
  
"'Precipitate?'" Rogue quoted back to her.  
  
"What? I read books too. And you were kinda doing that with Remy."  
  
Rogue rolled her eyes. "Thank ya so much fo' ya contribution, Ms. Teen Magazine," she scoffed as she stomped out to go hit something in the weight room.  
  
Kitty looked back at Kurt and shrugged. "She asked. Oh, and you're done."  
  
"Finally!" he exclaimed before teleporting to the kitchen to see if they'd left him anything to eat. Thankfully, Storm had put aside a healthy protion for Kurt and had it waiting for the boy.  
  
The time until Saturday passed quickly. All of the students were excited and chomping at the bit to prove who was better, boys or girls, if only if it was at getting dressed in the morning. Rules were set up, typed out, and passed around so that everybody had a copy.  
  
The time you had to beat had to be done with more than a one minute leeway.  
  
You had to stay in your partner's clothes all day, being as close to that person's normal behavior as possible.  
  
You break it, you bought it.  
  
Your overall score will be tallied up at the end of the day, with minutes added for un-genderlike behavior.  
  
Friday night, all of the students were as sleepless and jittery as a kid whose birthday party was in the morning and they knew mommy and daddy had bough them a big surprise. Now the only question was, what would it end up being? %$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$% $%$%$%$%$%$  
  
POST-A/N: Okay, so it was short. Sue me. The next chapter is where everything gets rolling. And Logan makes a brief appearance. Don't get too attached, though. This isn't his story. 


	8. Saturday Morning

PRE-A/N: You know how big a dork I am, so here's your bonus chap. Enjoy. Oh shnit! I forgot about their arm pits. They're gonna hafta shave them, too, aren't they? Yeah... Woops.  
  
EviltwinAlix- The idea behind the story is pretty simple: we wanted to see the students cross dress. Not that big a light bulb. The real story is behind the title. Panther and I were having lunch with two of our friends, Liz and Leslie, at the local Chinese place. I won't go into the story too much, cuz it actually happens in this story, just with Bobby, Sam, and Tabitha, instead of four teenage girls. Give it a couple of chaps. You'll laugh, I promise.  
  
Okay, back to the fic!  
  
Saturday morning, all of the guys took showers. Yes, even the ones who'd had a DR session and taken a shower the night before. They used conditioner in their hair and shaved their legs and- yes, again- their arm pits. The girls insisted that they be as like them as possible, remember? As you can imagine that whole scenario put the guys in great moods.  
  
Because they didn't have to do all of the stuff the guys were being subjected to, a lot of the girls got to sleep in. That really did put them in good moods. Some had to get up to shower, but a few figured that either their little teenage boy-partner didn't shower on a regular basis, or he didn't know how to use deodorant judging by the slight funk that came off of a few of them. (A/N: I'm sorry if I'm offending anyone, but some teenage boys just have overactive hormones, and they stink, no matter how often they bathe.)  
  
Rogue was one of the few that got up to shower, along with Jean and Tabitha, because Remy was a pretty clean person, and he always smelled good, even after he'd been working out... and he was all sweaty... and his hair was falling in his face...and his skin absolutely glistened...  
  
Rogue turned on more cold water in her shower. She really was getting the full "guy" experience.  
  
At breakfast, the students on kitchen duty wandered around trying to find something for the whole Institute to eat. This was harder than usual because of being in someone else's clothes; a few of the guys dealing with unusual drafts and the larger chested girls having some gravity problems. Jean was using telekinesis to hold her goods in place. Rogue had just decided to put up with it. It wasn't comfortable in the long run, but if she didn't do any running, and walked with her arms crossed, she was okay.  
  
Logan was hungry. He walked down the hall toward the kitchen, wondering what the breakfast crew had made this morning. He hoped it was waffles; he was really in the mood for waffles. When he walked into the kitchen and several faces looked up at him, he began to seriously hope that his mind was being tampered with by Mastermind or Trask's men or Magneto or somebody, but he decided not to wait and find out. He turned right back around and took the long route to the garage. He was going to the International House of Pancakes. Pancakes were as good as waffles.  
  
The students watched him walk back out and just shrugged. If they'd just seen what he just saw without knowing what they were seeing, they'd have been freaked out, too.  
  
Remy was sitting at the table, because he was having some trouble "his" clothing. The boots were way too small, with heels way to high. He'd smacked his head on his doorway when he left his room, glad that nobody had seen that, and he kept wincing as he duck-walked, which might have actually have been more embarrassing than having someone see him whak his forehead on a door frame. Not to mention the aforementioned breezes where breezes were not meant to be. He was freezing, even with the gloves he'd borrowed from Rogue, and the looks he was getting from everybody else were really starting to piss him off.  
  
And, to top it off, his make-up wasn't done, either. He had it spread out on the kitchen table next to Scott and his make-up. Cyke was looking a bright shade of red around the mouth. He sort of resembled Bozo the Clown. And then Kurt sulked in, dressed in the pink velour jogging suit.  
  
"Here comes a blue, fuzzy, Jennifer Lopez," Remy commented.  
  
"Vell, you look like Bondage Barbie got dropped down ze garbage disposal," the German snapped at him.  
  
Kitty, Rahne, and Amara all came in together talking, very chipper about their extra sleep time. Two of the tree weren't even having a problem with the no bra rule. Jubilee was medium sized, so she was sure that she'd get annoyed eventually, but both Kitty and Rahne were small enough than they didn't really have to worry about it.  
  
"I got nearly an extra hour of sleep this morning, not having to shower," Rahne grinned. She was dressed in a pair of khakis with cargo pockets, and a blue T-shirt that really wasn't supposed to be as baggy as it was.  
  
"Me, too," Amara smiled, flipping up the ends of the long, flannel cut-off vest over the white T, and putting her hands in the pockets of the faded jeans she'd borrowed from Sam. "But then, I've always thought Americans bathed too much."  
  
Rahne nodded her agreement.  
  
"I had to get up cuz Kurt said he like takes that long to de-tangle his fur," Kitty said. The jeans she was wearing weren't too loose, but she kept having to push up the sleeves of the red sweater. "But I still got to sleep, like, a half-an-hour later than usual."  
  
After a few more moments of late arrivals and many of the guys failing the girls time miserably--it was the make-up that kept tripping them up—it was Roberto that saved the boys, who actually made it by thirteen seconds. Everyone grabbed their warmed up concrete, otherwise known as badly made instant oatmeal and split up to watch Saturday morning cartoons and so whatever else they felt like it, or had to because they were girls/guys now. Except for Rogue, who had kind of tried to cheat, but Remy caught her.  
  
"Chere, is dat eyeliner?"  
  
"What eye liner?" she asked, turning away from him.  
  
"Come on," he said. "I gotta wear dis crap, you doan get to."  
  
Rogue growled and gritted her teeth. She grabbed the collar of Remy's "Lucky 13" shirt and wiped away the black kohl. "Happy now?"  
  
"Oui, I c'n see ya now."  
  
"Oh, yeah, well...ya hose got a run in 'em."  
  
He looked down at the five inches of fishnets that could be seen between the thigh high boots and short vinyl skirt, and sure enough there was a snag in his borrowed tights. He just shrugged to piss Rogue off royally.  
  
"Doan like panty hose of any kind," he said. "Too much work t' get of ya. Doin' us both a favor takin' 'em outta commission."  
  
Scott made a disgusted noise after he put a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. "Ulgh. My breakfast tastes like lipstick!"  
  
Jean was currently trying to pour ketsup on her self-made scrabled eggs, because she didn't even want to think about putting that crap in her body. The eggs were covered, but she couldn't tell very well with Scott's glasses on.  
  
Tabitha strolled in last, the only female who still looked like herself. Small slutty T-shirt? Check. Tight pants? Check. No bra? Double check.  
  
"Oh mah gawd," Rogue shook her head in disgust. "Tabitha, you suck."  
  
Tabitha grinned wickedly at Rogue, looking her up and down. "I think his clothes are going to your head, Rogue." She realized that she'd just done an innuendo, too, and grinned wider.  
  
Remy laughed, before his attention drifted back to Rogue's make-up lying on the table. He was having at it as best as he could remember, with Jamie sitting across from him, sulking.  
  
"I hate this," he said. "I'm just not cut out to be a transvestite."  
  
"Where'd you learn that word?" Tabitha asked, trying to decide if she wanted the oatmeal or if she should fend for herself this morning.  
  
"The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Eddie Izzard," Jamie answered. He was currently dressed in a blue mini-skirt and a white halter top, his make-up was a little smeared, and he had his knees tightly shut. Scott, however, did not.  
  
"Hey, Scott!" Tabitha opened up the heckleing. "You auditioning for the sequel to Braveheart? That takes a lot of balls!"  
  
Scott hurumphed and shut his knees.  
  
"No, no," Rogue joined in the teasing. "Sequel ta The Full Monty! Strut it, Scotty!"  
  
Jean sighed and sent a glare toward her boyfriend, even though nobody could see it. "Scott, at least try to be ladylike."  
  
"See Kurt?" Kitty asked. "Aren't you glad you're in pants?"  
  
"You have like no idea," Kurt mocked her.  
  
"Keep it up, buddy," she warned him. "You haven't put your make-up on, either."  
  
After trying and failing to ingest any of the oatmeal, Rogue decided to go for Pop-Tarts. Unfortunately, they were on the top shelf in one of the cabinets, and all of the chairs were taken. She refused to ask Jean to help her telekinetically, so she was going to have to make a jump for them. She managed to get the box, but the landing was a little painful.  
  
"Shit!" she cussed, drawing attention to herself.  
  
Laughter and teasing filled the room when they realized what the problem was.  
  
"It's be like easier to jump if you went under the knife, Rogue," Kitty teased.  
  
"He wouldn't even let ya wear a sports bra?" Rahne chimed in. "No wonder ya lower than usual."  
  
Lots more laughter at that, and a good couple of cat-calls from the Remy area. Rogue glared at everyone at the table.  
  
"Thank ya very much President an' Vice President o' the Itty Bitty Titty Committee."  
  
Now everybody was laughing at the other two girls, thus getting the heat off of Rogue, which was what she wanted. &&&&&&&&&&&&&& &&&&& &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&  
  
POST-A/N: So, what did you think? Yes, they'll be going to the mall in the next chapter, I promise. 


	9. To the Mall!

PRE-A/N: I would just like to say that I love you all! Sometimes, you all are the only reason I keep writing and not resign myself to the horrible future of a real job. Who the hell would want that!?!  
  
-bobtheheadlesschicken: Ya need to be a little more clear in your reviews, there, dude. I couldn't understand a word you typed!  
  
-Ish: Yeah, I get whattcha mean. And more squish and yum and yay to come. Hey, that rhymed! I'm tellin' ya, it's all that bunny crack.  
  
-MeWhoExactlyWhat: You bunny hopped across the room bra-less? Because of this fic? I think I can speak for Panther and say that we are so flattered! A little creeped out, but mostly flattered. I actually just tried the jumping, and it doesn't really hurt so much as it's not very comfortable. Ah, well.  
  
-pyros-gal: Thank you so much for putting me on your fave author's list. I'm very flattered and happy and, if you could see me, you'd know that I'm all glowy and filled with joy! But, remember, this was a team effort between me and Panther Nesmith. You should go read some of her stuff if you haven't already. If ya think this is funny, Panther's SOUS will have you rolling.  
  
I'd just like to say, that is apparently not accepting astric symbols anymore, cuz there were supposed to be a couple in the last chap around the lyrics of the song. Any idea what's goin' on there?  
  
We join our favorite... the mutants that we've been studying in this story so far, back in the kitchen, Rogue with her Pop-Tarts, and everyone having a nice chuckle at the "Prez and VP of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee" comment. (Everybody really seemed to get a kick outta that.)  
  
Rogue walked back to the table and stood at one end of the table next to her brother's chair. Finally, Scott got up out of his chair to go to the bathroom, so she could have a seat to eat her Pop-Tarts. Unfortunately, the seat was right next to Remy, oh joy. Regardless, Rogue sat down, crossing her legs. Remy smacked her foot, thereby uncrossing them from that way too girly position. Rogue scowled at him and recrossed them, but this time in a much more guy fashion.  
  
Amara was already tired of having to keep moving the flannel vest out of the way. First she'd sat on it, and now it was drooping down one arm. "Arrgh! You have crappy taste in clothes, Sam!"  
  
Sam was busy adjusting "his" tube top and glared right back at her. "An' yo taste is so much bettah? Ah look even mo' like Ah grew up in a trailah!"  
  
There was much laughter at that pronouncement, but Rogue had something to say to that.  
  
"Okay, you look like trailah trash?" she asked, gesturing to what she was wearing.  
  
"Hey!" Remy exclaimed, very offended. "I do not dress like trailer trash!"  
  
"Says the guy who insists his weak-ass goatee is stylish," she quipped back.  
  
"T'ank you, Miz Got'ic Beauty, t'inking dat purple an' green go t'gether."  
  
"Stop it, both of you!" Jean commanded before Rogue challenged her partner to pistols at high noon. "The immaturity level in here has sky rocketed. Grow up!"  
  
"Jeannie, don't let Scott's clothes go to your head," Rahne warned, drawing a few chuckles from around the table. -------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------  
  
After wandering around for a few hours in drag, not quite knowing what to do with themselves and being very bored, they took a pole and decided to go to the mall. It was the only place they could think of to go that would be a true test of temporary masculinity or femininity. And, hopefully, no one would recognize them when they did come back, weeks, maybe even months into the future.  
  
Kurt thought he'd be getting away with the outfit he was in because of his holo-watch. "Ha-HA!" he pointed at Kitty in triumph. "Nobody vill see me in zis with my holo-watch on! Ha-ha-ha-HA!"  
  
"The jokes on you, blue boy," Kitty smirked. "Remember yesterday when you couldn't find your watch from like four'o'clock to like eight? Well Jean drove me over to Forge's house and he made sure that it would like project the pink jogging suit, too. HA! How do ya like them apples?"  
  
He turned on his watch and looked in the hall mirror. He looked human, in a pink, fuzzy jogging suit. "I hate you," Kurt sulked.  
  
No one was with their partner once they'd reached the mall, Jean made sure of it. The girls were banned from Claire's and other such stores, while the guys were forced into them. They weren't allowed at the arcade, or the video game stores, but Suncoast was neutral. The girls all had to play at least one arcade game, and look through the PS2 games.  
  
A few of the guys went to Victoria's Secret, where they were receiving quite a few weird looks from the clerks. Bobby was drawn over to a bra with butterflies on the straps. He was trying hard to imagine how it would look filled with boobs. Ray had found a corset like one he'd seen in Tabitha's drawer. Not that he'd ever admit to being in Tabitha's dresser, on pain of having to run Danger Room sessions for two weeks, but he had seen it.  
  
Roberto was actually in a dressing room trying on a garter belt, which he planned on passing over to Tabby once today was over. After all, it was her thigh-highs that kept rolling down. He simply did not have women's legs, even if he was in women's clothes.  
  
Rogue had gone into Hot Topic, since it was androgynous. She was looking around when one of the sales girl that Rogue knew found her.  
  
"Can I help- Oh! Hey, Rogue," she said. "I almost didn't recognize you. Going casz (A/N: short for 'casual') today?"  
  
"Hi Tawnie," Rogue said. "Ah'm winnin' a bet."  
  
"Well, you're forgiven then," Tawnie teased. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"  
  
"Does anybody evah come in here lookin' fo' somethin' in particulah?" Rogue asked.  
  
Tawnie laughed. "True. You know the drill, then."  
  
"Call ya if Ah need ya," Rogue promised, going to another kiosk.  
  
Remy was sitting uncomfortably in the food court. It had to be the make-up, because he was in a pissed off, antisocial mood. People kept staring at him and laughing. A group of five guys were actually pointing and laughing. And cat calling. Remy gave them the one fingered wave. He was used to having girls -yeah, even a few guys- staring, but the laughing and pointing were starting to get to him.  
  
[De urge t' have sex wit' Rogue is diminishin' real real fast,] he thought to himself.  
  
Sam was in Claire's feeling really stupid. The looks were really getting to the generally unconfident teenager. He kept scanning the crowd to make sure that nobody was out-and-out laughing at him.  
  
Jamie was there with him, looking at the wide assortment of jewelry. "It's rungs and rungs of the same stuff," the boy observed.  
  
"Ah think girls feel like they gotta buy back-ups," Sam imparted, jerking his eyes away from staring at some girl's boyfriend across the store.  
  
Jean and Kitty were down the mall in the arcade. Jean was picking the guy counter's brain for gaming secrets, while Kitty was just naturally kicking all. Jean finally found her nitch in a good old fashioned pinball game, and found that she was actually having fun.  
  
Scott was sitting, sulking, at one of the tables set up outside Gloria Jean's when Taryn passed. She looked right at him for a long time as she walked by. She went and ordered a skim...something or other. Scott groaned, praying she'd keep walking down to the other end of the mall, not wanting to be seen with the creepy cross-dresser. Oh, please? Oh pretty please? No such luck. 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
POST-A/N: Just a forewarning- SQUISH is the word I use when a there's a cute, romantic couple and cute, romantic things are happening. 


	10. Slash'n'Squish!

PRE-A/N: Yes, it's another double update, cuz, well, I love you guys, and you make me so happy when you review, and I really like this chapter and all the fun stuff that happens in it, so there ya go. Have you guessed who's sneaking a look outside the closet while 'Berto's inching his way through the door? Have ya, have ya?!?  
  
Disclaimer: The stuff I don't own, I don't own. Okay, here we go!  
  
Scott wanted to slam his head into the table he was sitting at, but he was afraid that his glasses would break and a whole new set of problems was going to start. Instead, he sent Jean a scathing mental message and watched as Taryn got her skim-something-or-other and came over to where he was sitting.  
  
"Hey, Scott," she greeted him. "You look...um...nice?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Taryn sat down in the seat opposite him and started talking. Scott sent Jean another message.  
  
Rogue came out of Hot Topic with a small bag and headed for the tables in the food court. Once she found a seat, she dug into her purchases and pulled out a bunch of various piercing accessories, and a stuffed toy bear she'd run to K.B. Toys to get after she'd been struck with the idea.  
  
Remy watched Rogue, a few tables away from him, started piercing the toy bear. It looked pretty fun. Remy went over to harass her, and hoping to borrow some glaring ability from her before he started to seriously consider beating the shit out of somebody to get the hecklers to shut up.  
  
Roberto sulked his way over to Borders. Ray had caught him buying the garter belt at Victoria's Secret, and had told all the other guys in the store with them. He had been teased and mocked, and decided to try consoling himself with a little reading. In the romance section. With a male-on-male, if he could find one—Rogue had once said that Borders had everything.  
  
Sam had gotten bored in all of the girl stores. They all looked the same. He'd already stopped in Spencer's and Hot Topic because they were neutral ground. He had gotten laughed out of both. He'd gotten laughed out of Spencer's!!! So Borders it was. Worst come to worst, he could always pick up the new Sport's Illustrated.  
  
As he was walking past one of the isles, Sam noticed Roberto sitting in one of the chairs and reading a book, a bag slumped over next to his stretched out legs, crossed at the ankle. Roberto spotted him and- with a little unease and mild panic- waved and went back to reading.  
  
[Hey, 'Berto's here, too] Sam thought, waving back. After a quick up and down scan of what his friend was wearing, he came to a decision. [He may be the one guy that actually looks kinna good in girl's clothes. The skirt's a lil' too short- 'course, it's Tabitha's- but it still looks OK. An' the tight T-shirt looks good—What the hell!?!]  
  
Sam swiveled to the sports magazines, very highly irked. He hated it when he did that, and he'd already caught himself three times today!! He didn't mean to, but every once in a while...Sam's mind would wander.  
  
At the sports rack, Sam found a book. Books are generally not with magazines, so his curiosity was pricked. Sam picked up the book and went over to sit in one of the chairs near Roberto. He'd already been spotted, so avoiding him would only be considered suspicious. Can't have that.  
  
Roberto cursed to himself in Portuguese. [Don't come over here, Sam!] he tried mentally yelling at him, hoping Sam would suddenly get psychic- er! Maybe not, considering. [Not now, Sam. Please go away!]  
  
Sam took the chair only a few feet away. Neither was very happy, but neither was going to admit to why. At least, not yet. Sam opened the book and started reading a few pages. It wasn't until then that he'd realized his mistake. He'd just picked up literary guy/guy athletic porn.  
  
[Oh, shit,] Sam ground his teeth together. [How'm Ah gonna put this back without anybody seein' me? Why was it with the Sports Illustrated ta begin with?!?]  
  
He glanced up to make sure nobody was looking so that he could make a run for it to put the book back. His gaze almost immediately clashed with Roberto's. Both averted their eyes as soon as they met, each looking back down at his book. Sam tried not to read the words on the pages, but he was already well trained to read when there are words. Damn the government for making children learn to read!!! (A/N: giggle)  
  
Tabitha had been in the girl smut isle, and she'd seen the whole thing. As a matter of fact, she was the one who'd planted the book at the sport's shelf, just to see who'd pick it up and what their reaction would be. She had no idea Sam would take the bait. And now...  
  
"Oh, this is too good," she giggled to herself, watching Mr. Kentucky Boy get all a'twitter.  
  
Tabitha called out to Jean as clearly as she could, relying on the link created during their Siren days to get through. When Jean got the message, Tabby projected the image in front of her. Jean squealed in the middle of the arcade, drawing some odd looks, and re-projected the image to the other Institute girls in the mall. There was a sudden rush to Borders.  
  
Rogue, who hated it when Jean went inside her head without her permission, even put her pierced bear back into the bag, along with the leftover rings and bars, and got up after shouting "Nuh-uh!!!" in the middle of the food court, in Remy's confused face, and left. Remy, of course, followed.  
  
Soon all of the X-females, and Remy, were hiding behind a single shelf in the romance section of Borders, watching as two very uncomfortable teammates tried not to look at, notice, or slobber over each other. Rogue was splitting her time between watching the two guys and looking at the femme smut. Remy had five-fingered a pen at the front desk and was taking notes on his arm feverishly, a terrible, wicked smirk on his face.  
  
Roberto was actually just trying to covertly see what Sam was reading. Well, and he was trying to snag a few glimpses at Sam's exposed lower stomach in that tube top. The boy was working hard on washboard abs.  
  
Jean was very slowly, as stealthily as possible, TKing the two boys' chairs closer together, into a position that she liked better than the one they were currently in. The girls kept their giggles and laughter as quiet as possible. %&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&  
  
Post-A/N: So, did you guess, or did you have to wait for it to get spelled out? Come on, you know they're cute together! Just one question, if anybody knows- where is Roberto from? We know he speaks Portuguese, but is he from Brazil or actually from Portugal? If you know, please enlighten us. If we're totally off, please enlighten us. If you have any information on the boy at all, please enlighten us, otherwise, we're just gonna keep ignorantly botching him up.  
  
One last thing. The book Sam picked up is real. It's titled A Man for Every Season. Panther and I found it while shopping together one time. So, yes, Borders really does have everything. XP 


	11. So Busted

PRE-A/N: This is only going to by a single update, and it's kinda short. I don't want to spoil you all too much. (grin). Everyone is, of course, fabulous. Every time I read my reviews I just want to hug everyone in the room- and since I'm at the library when I usually do updates and stuff, that would be way too many people, so I restrain myself.  
  
-rouguephoenix: I do know that Brazilians speak Portuguese, thank you. So, 'Berto's from Brazil. Okay. Don't suppose you know anything about his family and such? Otherwise, I'm just gonna make some shit up.  
  
-the flaming monkey: Sammy and Roberto. Aw, how I love 'em! They will hook up. Eventually. Sam just has to get over himself first. You'll see what I mean in this chap. And, remember, a mining family from the Kentucky Appellations; he's bound to have some issues dealing with his identity.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Charac's not mine, but I love 'em, so I've temporarily claimed them. ON WITH THE STORY!!!!!  
  
Bobby walked into Borders looking for the newest comic book issues. He had only just stepped into the book store when he spotted the girls, plus Remy, hiding behind a shelf and watching something. He looked where they all were and say Sam and Roberto in chairs reading, not paying any attention to the girls- plus Remy.  
  
"Hey!" Bobby called out to them. "Jean, Rogue, Tabitha! What are you guys doing?"  
  
This got Sam and Roberto to look up, slightly panicked expressions on both their faces. They craned their necks and finally saw where the girls were standing. Busted, they came out from behind the romance novel shelf all shooting death glares at Bobby. Remy was the only one who just stood there chuckling and scribbling on his arm. Bobby got the hint that he would be severely beaten if he went any closer, so he decided to go back to the main mall instead.  
  
Once on the other side of the shelf, Rogue smiled at them knowingly, then simply turned her back on the two boys to read the titles on the opposite side of the shelf. It was Tabitha who took the teasing lead for the girls.  
  
"May I just say: aw!"  
  
"You two are just like so cute," Kitty squealed. "Cuter than Jack and Rose from Titanic; almost as cute as puppies!"  
  
"You'll be the next cute couple," Rahne declared.  
  
"You would so by-pass Scott and Jean," Amara said.  
  
"Even Rogue and Remy, easily," Tabitha guaranteed. "Screw those two." She turned around and faced the two southerners. "I mean that literally. Screw. You two. Do it. Now. I'm sure they've got a store room or something you can go use."  
  
Rogue flipped her off while Remy grinned and winked at the blonde girl.  
  
Sam was trying to will the earth to open up underneath him and let him fall to his doom in a boiling pit of lava, but it wasn't working. Roberto was just embarrassed that he got caught. It was like a big BUSTED sign was flashing over his head.  
  
"OOo!" Rogue suddenly exclaimed, picking up a book. "A Man for All Seasons. Ah'm getting' it. Ah'm tired o' havin' ta borrow."  
  
"That's the one Sammy's got!" Tabitha giggled.  
  
All eyes fell on Sam.  
  
"Ah...uh... Ah didn' know...um..." he tried to explain.  
  
"All Male Erotica?" Rogue asked, pointing to the subtitle. "Didn' that give ya even a little clue?"  
  
"Don't feel bad," Roberto murmured out of the corner of his mouth. "Tabitha was the one who found my copy, and it's been circling the girls' wing since."  
  
Sam jumped up and threw the book back into the chair, desperately trying to cover humiliation making him angry and harsh. "Ew! Don' tell me that shit! Ah don' need ta know that! Ah didn' ask!"  
  
After his short tirade, Sam stormed out of Borders. Roberto blanched and tried to find some even emotional footing again. The girls quickly exchanged "woops" glances, too late realizing that they should have kept their damn mouths shut. Remy wisely hung back while the femme crowd went over to the abandoned Roberto to try to apologize and console him.  
  
"This calls for chocolate," Tabitha pronounced.  
  
"I may be gay," Roberto winced (that was the first time he'd said that out loud), "but I still don't understand the girl need for chocolate in a crisis."  
  
"It's chocolate!" Jean insisted. "There doesn't have to be logic in it."  
  
Rogue took time out from looking through the male/male porn book to add her two cents. "Guys, even gay guys, are still guys. Ya wanna cheer 'im up, play basketball with him."  
  
"Soccer's better," Roberto said half-heartedly.  
  
Rogue rolled her eyes, internally thinking, [Sport's a sport.]  
  
"Chere's right," Remy piped up, capping the pen. "Basketball's mo' fun."  
  
"It is not," Roberto said. "I bet you're only saying that because you suck at soccer, Femy LeBeau."  
  
Remy glared and pulled the hem of his borrowed skirt down lower while the girls laughed.  
  
Back in the mall hallway, Sam was walking fast and almost blindly until he reached the food court and spotted Scott- still being stalked by Taryn- and Kurt headed toward him. He knew if he looked mad they would ask what was wrong, and he was in no mood to even contemplate an answer or think up a good lie. Even if he had been a good actor, they probably wouldn't believe him if they saw how truly irked he was right now. And even though Kurt was in pink velour and Scott had on a khaki skirt, Sam knew that they'd look at him like he was the freak, so he changed directions and headed to the CD store instead. %#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%# %#%#%#%#%#%%#%#%  
  
POST-A/N: Told ya it was kinda short. Review and tell me what you think. Was it too angsy? Not angsty enough? Advice and praise welcomed. Remember, I value an honest opinion over a pretty lie any day. 


	12. Camelot!

PRE-A/N: Muah! Kiss! Smooch! Love ya! Here's the chapter that inspired the title. I hope that you enjoy the fun innuendo, and remember: it's based on a true story.

Disclaimer: I disclaim any ownership of anything that's not mine. Okay, that's not ours.

Here's the chap!

In Camelot Music, a very disgruntled Sam decided to buy himself three CD's that Rogue on her worst day would have been proud to own. After spending some time in the computer games section- which no one had said specifically was off limits- he was a little calmer. He comforted himself that everybody experiments at some point. Not that he was!!!! But...ya know...it was natural to wonder. There was nothing wrong with that. It didn't make him something he wasn't.

He was just about to go to the counter to pay when Bobby came in. Since Iceman had fled the scene as soon as the girls had glared at him, he had no idea what went down afterwards, but, Bobby being Bobby, he was bound to say something.

[Great, jus' great,] Sam grumbled to himself. [All Ah need is fo' Bobby to start bein' a smart-ass.]

"Hey, Sam," Bobby said. "So, what was up with that over in Borders?"

"Do me a favah," Sam glared. "Don' ask."

Bobby shrugged, a mischievous grin on his badly faded lips. (Someone hadn't been using Cover Girl Long-last lipstick. Tisk tisk.) "Either you tell me, or I weasel it out of one of the girls," he said. "You know what a sucker Kitty is for computer hacking tips."

Sam went and paid for the CD's, again noticing the looks he was getting from the cashier. When she handed him his bag, he turned around and faced Bobby.

"Cain't ya jus' let it drop?" he asked shortly. "They were teasin' me cuz Ah picked up a book Ah didn' know was f' girls. Happy?"

There was more to it- Bobby could sense it in his popsicle bones. There was something Sam wasn't owning up to. Well, that was fine. He'd just have to talk to the girls later to get the scoop. For now, he thought it was best to change the subject. Hey! He could gossip about somebody else! That was fun, too.

"Anyway, did you hear about Roberto in Victoria's Secret?" Bobby asked.

"No," Sam gritted through his teeth, "an' Ah don't care."

"Sheesh! What's put you in such a bad mood?"

Sam couldn't tell Bobby the truth, of course. He couldn't tell anyone. It was bad enough that the girls practically had a closed case, save for an open confession- which they weren't going to get! Ever!

"Ah...Ah'm hungry," Sam supplemented. "Very hungry."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, I know whattcha mean. Breakfast wasn't exactly gourmet. Want to go grab some Chinese food from Golden Dragon?"

"Ya broke, huh?"

Bobby grinned childishly. "How'd you guess?"

Sam shook his head and led the way back to the food court. At the Golden Dragon counter, Sam ordered sweet-n-sour chicken with pork fried rice and a Mt. Dew. Bobby bought four eggrolls and water, which he paid for in quarters and a machine-washed dollar. The workers took pity on him and gave Bobby the super-stuffed eggrolls.

"Yeah! Awsome!" he grinned when he saw.

"Congrats," Sam said.

They headed for a vacant two-seater table and sat down to have lunch. While they munched, they discussed Sam's new music choice. The Kentuckian managed to scarf down all of the fried chicken pieces and most of the rice in only a couple of minutes. He hadn't realized how hungry he really was until he'd gotten a whiff of the food court, and he was glad he'd made the excuse. Bobby, on the other hand, had gotten more than he could consume on his own, and whenever he bit into the eggrolls, stuffing came out the other end.

"Man, all my insides are coming out," he grumbled. "I'm losing girth here!"

They both laughed.

"Ah'm still hungry," Sam shrugged. "Ah'll eat ya girth."

Bobby started snickering at the double entendre, but Sam went bright red and quickly tried to cover up his slip. "Ah mean- ! Ah didn' mean- ! Ah wouldn'- ! Ah'm not!!!"

"Chill, dude," Bobby said.

Sam attacked the rest of his pork fried rice with determined gusto while Bobby wondered what the hell his problem was.

Tabitha had watched the large group of females disintegrate in Borders. Rogue was teasing Remy about being called "Femy" by a gay guy. Said gay guy was off buying himself a new book, and the rest of the girls had split up to go back to the main mall, or were looking through the other isles.

Tabitha was looking through the manga selection when her stomach gave a loud gurgle, and she headed back for the food court. When she walked in, she scanned the tables for anybody she knew that she could sit with. She spied Vanilla Ice and Sammy-boy at a table near the middle of the room and decided to head that-a-way. Tabitha dragged a spare chair over and plopped herself down next to Bobby.

"So how are you guys doing," she smiled, slanting Sam a knowing look before sliding the placemat from under Bobby's Styrofoam plate on his tray.

Both boys said that they were fine; one with more conviction than the other. Tabitha was only giving them about half of her attention, though. She was busy reading her description from the Chinese zodiac.

"What are you doing over here?" Bobby asked.

"Lunch. I'll order in a minute," she muttered, still reading. "Hmmm. It says I should marry a snake or a cock. I LOVE THE COCK!!!!" she said very loudly, laughing.

Bobby and Sam ducked their heads, embarrassed at the attention Tabitha was drawing. Bobby picked up the empty tray and hid behind it. Sam just used his hand as a shield.

"And I'm not the only one," Tabitha said slyly in a little sing-song voice, giving Sam a look.

"God damnit, I'm not gay!" Bobby yelled, shooting to his feet and causing ever more people to look over at him. He blushed and sat back down. "Well, I'm not."

Tabitha laughed riotously. Sam joined in, mostly in relief that it hadn't been him. After a few more seconds, Tabitha got up and headed to the Arby's counter, leaving Sam and Bobby to try their best to ignore all of the punning and homoerotic innuendo.

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POST-A/N: I couldn't possibly give you more than that. You're knickers will just have to be in a twist until next chapter. Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!

PS- I've been having hell'a luck lately with computers and the internet. First, I couldn't get up to the library to update or anything else, which is why I didn't write back to anyone this chapter, and then refused to read the chapters, saying that it wasn't written on the right template, but I've written them all on the same program, so I don't know what was up with that. I'm hoping I'll have better luck this time. Sorry it's taken so long.


	13. Insert title here

Rogue stormed into the mall once again, Remy following at her heels. Well, Remy in her heels, sort of at his own heels.

"Dis is what ya wear clubbin'?" he asked, motioning to his outfit.

"Yes! Leave me alone!"

"Ya go clubbin'?"

"When Ah wanna dance, Ah dance. Got a problem with that?" she said, rounding on Remy, preparing to strangle him if she could reach his neck.

"Ya dance?" Remy asked, honestly befuddled and shocked.

"Whatta ya think Ah do with all mah time!?! Sit in the library in the dark drinkin' blood an' readin' Edgar Allen Poe?!?" Rogue yelled, drawing interested and frightened glances from other shoppers.

"An' listen t' Marilyn Manson, cursin' de world, yes!" Remy agreed.

Rogue stopped walking and got very quiet. Not peaceful, I-forgive-your-ignorance quiet. More like post-flash/pre-rumbling wave of nuclear destruction quiet. "Ya know the good thing about cross dressin'?" she asked. "Ya shoes are reeeal easy ta run in."

With his usual speed, Remy weighed the odds. It didn't look very good. Could he talk his way out of this?

"Ya gotta admit, cherie, I doan see ya loosen up enough t' dance ever," he said, his voice absolutely dripping with charm. [Doan' attack me. I cain' move in dese damn heels.]

"So that automatically means Ah got no life?" she snapped.

"If ya doan act like ya have a life outside o' de Institute, what else'm I supposed t' t'ink?"

"How 'bout ya think outside the box an' stop bein' so damn stereotypical!" Rogue yelled at him before turning on her- well, his heel, technically, and marching away.

Remy decided not to push his luck with her anymore for a little while. (See? He's not a complete idiot.) He wandered around until- hey! Hot Topic! Gothic headquarters. It's good to get into the mind of your prey. So he went into the store for a little research.

He looked at the goth girl behind the counter as she rang up his assortment of new earrings.

"Ya got clubs? I mean, got'ic dance clubs?"

The young woman lifted a pierced eyebrow at him questioningly. "Normally I love transvestites, but-"

"Non," Remy shook his head. "'M not askin' ya out, not dat ya not very pretty. Jus' tell me 'bouttcherself, chere. I'd like t' get t' know what a purist goth does in 'er free time."

"'Purist goth?'" Tawnie asked.

"Yeah," Remy grinned as seductively as possible in his current situation.

"Well," she sighed, considering. "Yes, we have clubs, and no, we don't just sit around and glare at each other the whole time. We dance, we have fun, we date; all the usual stuff." She paused for a minute and scanned Remy's outfit. "Wait a second. Do you know a girl who goes by Rogue?"

"Yup."

"I thought I'd seen that outfit before," Tawnie nodded, finally noticing that there was a person in line behind Remy who was getting impatient. "Step over here and talk," she directed. While she rang up the next few customers she told Remy everything she knew.

Kitty, Amara, Jubes, Rahne, and Roberto had gone ahead to the food court ahead of Jean, who had stopped in the sporting goods store to look at soccer equipment. Sam saw then walk in and groaned, burying his face in his hands. Bobby looked at him, then over his shoulder to see the group of X-students walking by, and made a mental note to grill Kitty for information. Whatever Sam's problem was, it was big. (!!pun alert!! !!pun alert!!)

Roberto glanced over and saw Sam hiding and looking unhappy. He felt for him, really he did. The solar powered Brazilian almost went over to try and cheer him up, but decided against it when he saw Bobby at the table, and Tabitha was headed in that direction. The girls he was with noticed this and traded significant looks with each other.

They conferred for a minute and decided on Chic-fil-a for lunch. After they got their food, they grabbed a table near Sam'n'company, just to tease the cross-dressed boys. Roberto balked the entire way to the table and refused to look the blond in the eye once he sat down. Of course, Sam wasn't exactly seeking eye contact as it was.

Rogue had stalked her way outside and joined the smokers grabbing a butt between stores. She plopped down on the curb, which was not exactly the most comfortable place in the world, and she hated the smell of cigarette smoke, but she really wasn't in the mood to think about it too much. She fumed for a while in silence before realizing that it would probably be more therapeutic to take her anger out on something that had done her no harm (in true American fashion), so she dug in her Hot Topic bag for the piercing bear and a few more pieces of body jewlery.

When Rogue came back inside she was still only slightly cooled down, and headed for Gloria Jean's for an iced coffee. She'd barely gotten twelve steps when she came across the younger girls not-so-subtly stalking Sam. Thank goodness, Roberto had managed to somehow escape and was nowhere to be seen. At the back of the group, however, Bobby was interrogating Kitty, and she was grudgingly spilling the beans.

Rogue stalked over and attacked the front of the group first.

"Leave the po' boy alone!" she warned Amara and Rahne. "D'you have any idea how annoyin' it is when y'all do shit like this? Y'all're lucky some o' us haven' done som'n' violent to ya in ya sleep. Leave. Sam. ALONE. An' you," she pointed to Bobby, heading for the back of the group, "come with me."

Iceman shot his gaze from Rogue to Sam to Kitty, and back again, not knowing what to do first. But, with the info he'd just gotten, he had to make at least one comment before going with Rogue. "Alright, I'm coming. Hey Sammy!"

"NOW!" Rogue barked. She grabbed him by the throat and frog-walked him into Spencer's. "Listen up, icesicle-"

"You're channeling Wolverine, aren't you?" Bobby asked.

Rogue growled in a very good imitation of him. "Not at the moment, but if ya prefer, Ah c'n call 'im up so ya c'n deal with him instead o' me."

Bobby gulped and shook his head.

"Ah didn' think so. Now, pay attention. You ain't gonna be tellin' nobody about what Kitty told ya. Ya ain't gonna be teasin' Sam an' Roberto about this. If ya hear anybody at the Institute talkin' 'bout 'em, you tell 'em Ah said Ah'll be dealin' with 'em, cuz if Ah hear 'em before you stop 'em, Ah'll be comin' aftah you, too. Got that?"

Bobby nodded.

"Peachy," Rogue smirked. "Now run along like a good little cross-dressah an' go visit one o' the girly stores."

"Yes, ma'am," Bobby said, sidling away.

After he had skittered out of her path, Rogue congratulated herself on a job well done, and a lot of steam blown off. Now in a much better mood, she perused the merchandise of Spencer's. She was looking into getting one of the neon lights to put in her room to annoy Kitty with.


	14. Gothy Guy

PRE-A/N: Jeeze. It has been one hell of a past week. Computers have not been my friend, and then was having not goodness going on. Grr. Added to that, I'm packing up to move into my dorm room (four hours away!) so, I'm trying to get all of this story up before Saturday. Cross your fingers, folks.

-PomegranateQueen: Thank you (bow), thank you (bow).

-Rogue4787: Thanx! We love that you think we're funny. You should see us in real life...(wince) then again, maybe not.

-Ish: The "true American fashion" bit was all Panther, but I'll pass along the message. But, iddn' it the truth? (subliminal message- vote for Kerry- subliminal message)

-TheDreamerLady: (holding up award for getting put on fav list while weeping hysterically) Thank you! Thank you! You like us, you really like us!

Disclaimer: yadda yadda. On with the story.

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Remy walked out of Hot Topic a new man-dressed-as-a-woman. He'd seen the black light, and it was good. He felt enlightened, free, as if-

Hey, Rogue was walking into Spencer's. Threatening Bobby. Oh, here comes Bobby, looking frightened, but Rogue was still in the store. Remy grinned and decided to go show off his new-found goth knowledge.

As soon as he walked in, he spotted Rogue looking at the glitter lamps in the store window. He strode toward her, swinging his hips the way you had to in heels, or risk the humiliation that Remy had been subjected to for the first part of the day. Rogue saw him coming toward her and inwardly groaned. Just what she needed. Of course, Remy picked up on this mood shift and grinned. God, it was fun pissing her off!

"'Lo, chere."

Rogue barely acknowledged the greeting and went back to perusing the lamps. Remy had the absolute desire to wrap his arms around her waist and start the first stanza of "Your Best Nightmare" by London After Midnight- which Hot Topic Tawnie had informed him was one of Rogue's favorite songs while they were at the club-in a low murmur. Instead, he reached around her and picked up a lamp with green liquid, and silver glitter floating around in it.

"Dis'n'll match yo side o' de room 'n' clash well with Kitty's pink bed stuff," he said, not bothering to tell her how he knew what their room looked like.

Rogue studied it a moment. She kinda liked it. He had a point, damn him. Still, she figured it was better not to let him know she knew he had that point. "Why should Ah pick that one? There's a glowin' skull lamp ovah on the othah side o' the store."

Remy glanced over at the cheesy lamp she'd motioned to. He couldn't imagine that in anyone but a necrophiliac, or a Hamlet-obsessee's room. He was really hoping that Rogue was neither. The one was creepy, the other was just way too dramatic, even for him.

"Oui, but I t'ink dis'n caught ya eye more."

Rogue raised her eyebrows and nodded slightly. "Ya got back one o' the points ya lost earliah." She held up a finger when Remy started to smirk. "But ya lost a lot o' points."

"Lemme pay fo' dis," he said, hefting the lamp still in his hand.

"Ah'll pay fo' it mahself," she said, taking the lamp away from him and settling it in the crook of her arm. She had to smirk, though, at the irony. "Not like it's eithah of our money really payin' fo' it, anyway."

Remy bowed slightly and motioned to the cash register. Rogue shrugged and then shook her head.

"Ah ain't quite done lookin' yet."

Down the mall a ways, Sam was still being stalked, despite Rogue's warning to the girls. He sighed in annoyance and turned around. "If ya gonna stalk me, at least pretend ta be quiet."

The girls all giggled non-apologetically.

"So?" Amara asked eagerly. (A/N: As so many of you are.)

"So, what?" Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"You. Roberto. Lots of squishy feelings," Jubilee clarified. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What are y'all talkin' about?" he snapped, as if he didn't already know perfectly well what they were talking about. "Why should Ah do anythin'? What'd Ah do if Ah was ta do somethin'?"

"Well," Rahne said, "you could approach it scientifically."

The rest of the group looked at her in confusion.

"Mum's a scientist," she reminded them. "We've had this discussion already."

"Whatta ya mean 'scientifically'?" Sam asked suspiciously.

Rahne cleared her throat and became very business-like. She'd seen her mother address conventions of other geneticists in just this way. "The logical thing to do would be to conduct an experiment. First, we create a hypothesis: you'll enjoy kissing Roberto."

Sam tried to jump in with a quick denial, but Rahne cut him off.

"I'm not saying you will, just that that's the hypothesis. Next, we do the experiment. You need a control, and an experiment for the opposite effect. This means that you should think about how you feel not being kissed, then get a kiss from a girl. After that, you get a kiss from Roberto and make an informed decision based upon the data that you've collected."

The girls did a little golf-clap in appreciation for that explanation, while Sam sulked.

"You have to admit, Sammy-boy," Tabitha slung an arm around his shoulders (A/N: Yes, she's there too), "it's a good idea, and it'll definitely help you make the right decision. I mean, think about it. If you're not...you know, gay? Well, then you won't enjoy lockin' lips with 'Berto, will you?"

"That's the theory," he grumbled.

"You'll never really know unless you, like, take the plunge," Kitty said.

Sam continued to sulk for another minute before mumbling, "Y'all know Ah hate ya, right?"

"To the depths of your soul!" Tabby grinned, grabbing the Kentuckian's bare shoulders and smacked her mouth on top of his in a deep kiss. Any male that had at least a 30% straight affiliation would have melted to the floor right there in the mall. Sam looked very surprised, and even impressed, but he was not a pile of Jell-O.

"Well?" Tabitha asked once she'd pulled away.

"Impressive," Sam nodded. "Ah don' think Ah've evah had someone else's tongue that far back in mah mouth before."

"Alright! Off to find 'Berto!"

The expedition trooped off in search of the solar boy who had scampered off. They finally found him at the fountain in front of JC Penny's- talking with St. John. The rest of the Brotherhood fanned out around them. $%$%$%$%$$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%$%%%$%$%$%$%$

POST-A/N: And I bet you guys thought they'd never get here! Well, here they are.


	15. The Kiss!

PRE-A/N: Frickin' A, I did it again! I left the paper I wrote down all the people I wanted to write back to at the library. Sigh. Oh, well. Just know that there were a couple of you.

Ish, I think, for the Bush/pretzel joke. Hearty giggle from that one. And somebody else who said something and I wanted to say something back, but I can't remember who it was, much less what I was going to say in return. Maybe I should start taking ginseng pills to help my memory. Or was that gingko baloba? See!?! I suffer from an acute case of CRS- can't remember shit.

Ya know what, let's just go back to the story. Remember, the Brotherhood have finally made an appearance, but, I'm sorry to break your hearts (OO! I remember something! Somebody really likes Pietro. Why?) but the BoM are not staying for too long. Except for Pyro, cuz he's so damn fun. #%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%

St. John had one foot propped up on the tile fountain edge, and was leaning down to talk to Roberto. He was flirting openly, and Robert, poor boy, didn't quite know what to do about that. Meanwhile, the rest of the BoM were scattered about the fountain. Pietro was zipping around and generally making a pest of himself, every once in a while stopping by Pyro and adding a comment with a sour scowl on his face. Of course, when didn't Pietro have a sour scowl on his face.

Fred was rocking back and forth on his heels ever so slightly, possibly afraid that more than a small lean to either direction would make him topple over. He was looking around at all of the shoppers and generally zoning out. Lance was standing a little behind John, fidgeting and scanning the crowd. Todd was obviously falling all over himself for Wanda, who was tapping her foot and using a little bit of her powers to hex a large crumb from someone's peanut butter cookie across the floor.

The group of girls and Sam paused about thirty feet away from the gaggle of mutants. Sam was scowling. He hated what was going on, and was seriously debating on whether or not to speak to these people ever again after the day was over.

"Ah really don' wanna do this."

Tabitha looked over at Sam and sighed a little, a surprisingly serious look on her face. "Do you not want to because you really don't, or because you're scared to find out and have to rethink yourself?"

Sam looked away and couldn't answer. Tab took a bit of pity on him and slung her arm around his shoulders. "Look, I know bi's not the same thing as gay, but it wasn't exactly all roses having to break it to my mom that I was taking another chick to my freshman homecoming back when I still lived with her."

At the looks that Tabitha got, she shrugged. She'd assumed that it wasn't a secret. "Oh, come on guys. You didn't figure it out by now? 'Hard in the middle, soft in the middle, I like all the chocolates in the box.'" (A/N: that's a quote I got from my friend, who got it from a movie I don't remember the title to.)

Sam grumbled for another minute. "Fine. Ah might as well get this ovah with, or y'all're nevah gonna give me any peace about it."

The group trooped forward again, except for Kitty. She couldn't face Lance just yet, so she phased through the floor and went to Cinnibun. Lance wasn't blind. He noticed her not so quick escape and stomped off to sulk. It was just not his freaking day!

Wanda noticed the parade of teeny-boppers- and one blond transvestite- headed her way and scowled, rather like her brother. She stalked off toward Spencer's, leaving the geek patrol behind. She was here to get a set of glow-in-the-dark beaded curtains for her room, anyway. Just because the rest of the house looked like trash didn't mean that her bedroom had to, too.

Todd, of course, followed her.

Fred noticed Sam in drag and got very frightened, so he went off to the food court to get some lunch.

Tabitha called to John, who immediately focused all of his attention on the easy score. She smirked knowingly at him and jerked her head towards the bathrooms close by. St. John nodded, but, before he jogged over to Tabby, he looked down at the semi-dumbfounded, and very embarrassed, Brazilian he'd been talking to a second ago. He bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then went off to go give the security guards a reason to kick him and Tabitha out of the mall.

Roberto childishly wiped at the kiss and glared after John. This would probably have been more impressive if he wasn't bright red underneath his natural skin tone.

"Ya such a slut, ya know that?" Sam muttered.

Roberto looked at him like he was a mute who'd suddenly started spouting off in five different languages. "So you're talking to me now? And, what the hell do you mean by that?!"

"Pyro, Roberto?" Sam asked, nodding to where St. John and Tabitha had scampered off to. "Ah thought ya'd at least have mo' class than that."

"Okay, one: jealous much?" Roberto challenged. "Two: it's none of your business, anyway. And three: he was flirting with me. And Pietro. And Wanda. And Lance, come to think of it. Now he is a slut. Besides, it was just a peck on the cheek."

"Speaking of kissing..." Rahne reminded Sam.

Sam's face darkened once again. He looked down at the guy who'd started the morning off as his friend. "Come on," he said, committed to getting it over with.

"Why?" Roberto asked suspiciously. "Where?"

"Ah'll explain when we get there."

Roberto crossed his arms in front of his chest and refused to budge. Sam rolled his eyes- so childish.

"Outside," Sam said. "Ta do an experiment. Ah'll explain the rest as we go, 'kay?"

Roberto looked at the eager faces of the girls around them. This could only be bad, he thought to himself. They never have that look on their faces unless it's going to be bad. After a few more seconds, though, he sighed and stood up. The girls giggled. Yup, definitely bad.

Sam managed to convince the girls that they didn't need an audience. He could collect his own damn data in privacy, thank you. (A/N: Sam seems the type to keep to a promise even if nobody's around to know whether or not he did. He's got 'honorable' written all over him.) Roberto just nodded and hoped he knew what the hell he was getting himself into by saying yes.

Without once looking at Roberto, Sam explained Rahne's plan as they walked. In the walk-in space between the inside and outside doors leading to the parking lot, Roberto stopped short. He'd heard some damn stupid things in his life- mostly from Bobby- but this was just effed-up completely.

"So you're saying that I'm your guinea pig?!" he asked. "You kiss me, and then you just decide on that one kiss."

"Basic'ly" Sam said, pushing open the outside door. "Can we get this ovah with?"

Roberto was absolutely furious, and frustrated as hell. This was stupid. This was ridiculous. This was completely disregarding his feelings on the matter! On the other hand, if he was going to have to deal with guys like Pyro eventually, wasn't it better to have some experience? In the end, being a horny teenage male- regardless of sexual preference- won out.

"Fine, let's go."

Sam's mind kicked into overdrive. Where would they do this? The corner was occupied by a Dillerd's employee on a smoke break. They weren't allowed behind the gated wall- that was for merchandise being unloaded from the trucks. The only place Sam could think of was...

"Let's go ovah ta Jean's SUV."

Roberto rolled his eyes and shrugged. A second later both boys were trying to locate the green SUV.

"Is it over there?"

"Which isle was it in?"

"It is green, right?"

"Umm."

"Is this one hers?" Roberto asked as they were walking.

"No. She doesn't have a Jesus air freshnah. That 'un ovah there looks like it has her NHS cord...yep!" Sam announced joyfully at his success in finding the right vehicle.

Then they discovered something else.

"It's locked!"

Sam looked up at the sky beseechingly. "It's cuz Ah made fun o' the Jesus air freshnah, isn' it?"

Roberto chuckled and watched Sam pout at the SUV, kicking one of the tires. He had to admit, the boy had a nice pout. It took Sam a moment, but he eventually felt Roberto's eyes on him and was just as surprised to find that he didn't mind.

Jean was in the arcade, completely out of quarters. She was starting to worry that she might be developing an addiction to pinball. She needed another fix. She quickly used her powers to scan the mall to see if anyone was near the end where her SUV was parked so that they could go grab her some of the change she knew was in there. She was sure that there were some quarters left over from when Bobby had iced the pipes at the Institute and she'd had to go to the laundry mat to wash her clothes. She'd have gone to get them herself, but she was afraid that somebody might try to steal her machine.

It was by pure, honest luck that she found Roberto and Sam already at her car. A short- and, alright, completely unethical- reading of their surface thoughts clued her in on what was going on. And so, as unobtrusively as she could manage, she concentrated on her car doors...and opened the locks.

Sam and Roberto looked at the car.

"Jean's spying on us!" Roberto exclaimed.

[Crap!] Sam mentally yelled.

Jean giggled from the arcade, but let them have their privacy.

Sam shook his head and looked at the other boy. "Roberto, Ah cain't do this. Not with Jean watchin'. We'll finish this aftah the mall."

Finally, Roberto got fed up. There was only so much disregard for his emotions he could take. "To hell with that!" he snapped.

Sam's eyebrows went up just before the thinner of the two shoved him back against the SUV door. Roberto was no longer in a complying mood.

"What a-" Sam managed to get out just before Roberto's mouth landed on Sam's, cutting him off. He mumbled and tried to get Roberto to back off for about two seconds. Finally figuring, 'What the hell? Ah'm here anyway,' Sam just took it all in for a while. The two of them were suddenly sharing a nervous, unsure kiss with growing enthusiasm in the parking lot of the mall, between Jean's SUV and a white utility van. It wasn't exactly private, but it was close enough with no one coming upon them suddenly.

Roberto eased back after a bit. They both opened their eyes, not having realized that they were even closed, and stared at each other for a few moments. Sam cleared his throat. Roberto took a step back.

"Well...tha' was..." Sam tried to think of something to say.

"Yeah," Roberto nodded. "Not too bad. So," he tried to joke, "we gonna do this again?"


	16. Backseat

PRE-A/N: Woo-hoo! We hit the big 100 reviews! Go you guys! Go us!

-EviltwinAlix: No, Pyro fucked Tabitha. Maybe Wanda. Probably Wanda. Just not in this story.

-Ish: Wow, you're psychic. Backseat it is.

-epona04: Thank you, thank you. (bow, bow) %#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#

"So, we gonna do this again?" Roberto asked, half teasing.

Sam kinda laughed and shook his head, although more at Roberto's eagerness than at the actual question. "Ah dunno. It was- Ah mean... Ah dunno."

They looked at each other in silence for another few seconds. Roberto smirked. Sam smiled shyly. He started leaning toward Roberto, but Roberto reached behind him and popped open the back door of Jean's SUV. Sam got nervous again.

[Why'm Ah doin' this?] he asked himself, climbing in nevertheless.

"Ah hope Jean's gettin' a nice view."

"I bet she is," Roberto said. "We're never going to hear the end of this."

Jean was in the arcade, having bummed a few quarters off of the guy behind the counter who kept leering at her breasts, and telling a few of the girls about what she'd telepathically found out in the parking lot. In a bit, John and Tabitha came out of the bathrooms and found the little group.

"Sunny's finally got himself a boy-toy?" Pyro asked. "Good fer 'im. Wait... in the back of your SUV, sheila? Hope they don't take off too much."

The girls paused to ponder that. Jean was out of quarters again, and now her SUV had been threatened. It was final. She had to go out to the parking lot and risk losing her pin ball machine.

Pyro and Tabitha chose to tag along, just to see the fun. The rest of the girls were too weirded out by the mere thought of two of their male friends... and... no. It was just too weird to think about, regardless that they kind of set the two up together.

Too bad for them, the show was not all that spectacular, anyway. Sam and Roberto were just kissing in the backseat. Neither was quite ready for more. They weren't even using a lot of tongue. Hell, they were barely even touching each other except at the mouth.

Roberto sighed inwardly and ran his hand up Sam's arm. Sam responded by tentatively rubbing his fingers along the other boy's chin and jaw. Both of them were going so slowly, being so careful.

"Aww!" Tabitha crooned.

John had taken out a small notebook and started taking notes. "You know, Alan is that kind of guy..." he mumbled to himself.

"Who's Alan?" Tabitha asked.

"Huh?" Pyro asked, jerked from his thoughts back into the real world. "Oh, uh, character of mine. Sorry, it's a writer thing."

"I always wondered what the notebook was for," Tabby grinned.

Sam and Roberto had broken their kiss at Tabitha's "aww." Sam could now truly be called a red neck, because he was blushing from the roots of his blond hair to the elastic top of his borrowed tube top. Roberto was an interesting shade of brownish-magenta. Neither one of them had any idea what they were supposed to say about being caught... or whatever the hell had just happened.

"Yeah," Pyro was continuing his explanation to Tabitha. "Picture boobs on Roberto."

Roberto went redder. Sam got out of the SUV.

Wanda was walking into Spencer's to find the beaded, glow-in-the-dark curtains she'd wanted. Mercifully, she'd managed to lose- alright, concuss- Todd along the way so that she didn't have to deal with him. When she entered the store, her eyes lit right away on Rogue and Remy (in drag!) having a semi-intelligent goth conversation.

"What the hell?!" Wanda shrieked, rather loudly, before busting out laughing. She had to lean against a shelf with sex toys on it to keep from collapsing on the floor.

Rogue and Remy watched as she pulled herself together enough to get out the second coherent statement. "Wh-what are you wearing?"

"Have ya noticed the othah Institute students in othah people's clothin'?" Rogue asked.

Wanda nodded.

"It's a bet," she continued. "A 'who's got it worse' kinda thing."

"Of...course," Wanda rolled her eyes. "Are you winning, at least?"

"Ah was, but then he figured out how ta walk in heels."

"Damn the man," Wanda said.

"Save de Empire," Remy added, finishing the quote.

Rogue smirked, just short of an actual smile. Remy had to feel proud.

Wanda cleared her throat. "So what are the rules of this challenge?"

The three of them spent the next five minutes throwing witty one-liners at each other until St. John and Tabitha came in, talking about his newest up-and-coming romance novel. &%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%

POST-A/N: sorry it's a short one. First week at UE, and I am majorly stressing and... it's kinda tough for me, so cut me some slack.


	17. Romance Novels

PRE-A/N: Um... nothing much to say, actually.

-TheDreamerLady: Pyro vs. Remy for your favorite? Dunt-du-du! Lemme know how that turns out.

-Rogue4787: Glad you caught the Empire Records reference. It is an awesome movie, and only about half of my friends get it when I say, "Damn the man, save the Empire."

-Panther: 'Only four years'? Are you joking me? I already feel like I should be going home soon, or that this is going to be harder than I thought. I still don't really have a close friend here, so it gets a little lonely. I'm becoming more of an introvert than I already am. However, I did pass a threesome on the steps outside talking about past lives, so maybe there's hope. 'Four years...' Psht! Wait til you start! %#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#

"Okay, so Alex is-" Tabitha was asking as they entered Spencer's.

"Alan," John cut in, correcting her.

"Close enough," she shrugged.

"No, it's not," he persisted.

Tabitha rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine, this Alan (A/N: emphasis on the second syllable) is a touchy-feely kinda guy?"

"No pun intended," St. John smirked.

Tabby laughed. "Okay, okay. So what's Marian like?"

"The classic I-ran-away-from-home-cut-my-hair-traded-in-my-petticoats-for-pants-and-impersonated-a-man-to-get-out-of-a-horrible-engagement type sheila," he replied.

Wanda rolled her eyes when she caught what the two were talking about. Pyro was either always going on about the pretty fire, who he'd shagged, or one of his books. It had to cover one of those three topics, or he seemed at a loss for actual coherent thought.

Rogue had heard what Pyro was saying and started to listen intently. She'd never have suspected the Acolyte-turned-Brotherhood member to have any form of intelligence in him, much less to be a writer.

Remy just frowned for the same reason Wanda had.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Rogue asked.

"Johnny's book," Tabitha grinned. "He's a romance novelinst."

"Me first one sold so well, I thought I'd keep going," John shrugged, almost managing to pull off nonchalant.

"First one?" Rogue asked, curious.

"Butterfly Nights," John named the title of his first book with pride.

Rogue's face paled, (um...went paler?) and her mouth dropped. She had that book at home. It was one of her favorite reads when she was in the mood for it. Hey, everybody needs to do something to take the edge off, right?

"Y-you're...?"

"Sara Jane Allerdyce?" Pyro mentioned his pen-name. "Yup, that's me, sheila."

"Ya jokin'."

He grinned evilly. "Would you like me to sign it for you? You'll then have one of only three signed copies. A collector's item!"

Rogue scowled. It seemed like an invasion of privacy to have one of her favorite smut novels written by one of the bad guys. Not to mention, it upped Pyro's IQ at least forty percent. Rogue didn't like being proved wrong about people; it made her second guess herself about pretty much everything.

Remy thought about what John just said, and about the emotions rolling off of Rogue at the moment. The instant his former teammate had said the name of his book her heart had thumped and she got turned on. It was just the briefest moment, and then it flagged to utter shock. Now Rogue was confused and getting grouchy, but it was that second of lust she'd had that was interesting. He'd have to interrogate John later.

Wanda shook her head. "I've never understood the allure of reading trite characters who don't deserve to live find true love."

"Me neithah," Rogue agreed. "Ah just read 'em for the sex."

Remy's eyes went wide and bright, and then his face twisted into an evil- and very sexy- grin. "Really, chere?"

Rogue rolled her eyes. So much for him being a female expert!

"Oh, please!" she said. "Ya think any woman reads romance novels for the plot? No. Harlequin is the Playboy of the female world."

"How good is de sex?" Remy couldn't help but ask.

"It varies," she shrugged. "Mostly pretty good."

Tabitha and Wanda traded a look, thinking the exact same thing about little Rogue. 'Virgin.'

John draped his arm over Rogue's shoulders and smiled down at her teasingly. "How about my book, love? What'd you think of the sex in there? Come on, Roguey, you can say it."

Rogue blushed a little. "It was...um... did ya do a lot o' research fo' it?"

"Lots," Pyro nodded devilishly.

"Even the scene with the..." she glanced at Remy and found that she couldn't describe the scene with him in the room. She was at least raised a lady, damn it! "With the...you know... an' the... in the..." Rogue used significant looks and vague hand gestures to fill in the words she wasn't willing to say aloud.

"Oh oh oh! Thaaaaat scene! Yes, yes lots of research for that one."

"You are so nasty."

"You loved every line of it. Admit it, sheila."

Rogue shrugged off his arm and stepped away. While she and Pyro had been talking, Remy made a mental note to find some of Rogue's romance novels and read them as soon as they got back to the Institute.

Rogue jolted as she remembered a passing idea she'd had a few weeks ago. She'd been considering it and decided to ask someone who was already published, so she turned back to St. John. "Do ya think there's a market fo' goth romance novels?"

This got Wanda's attention. She had wandered a few feet away to inspect the new merchandise, but she hopped back when she heard Rogue's question.

"Are you planning on writing a romance novel featuring goths?" she asked.

Tabitha wondered mentally what the hell research Rogue was planning on doing for her sex scenes, considering the whole virgin-can't-touch thing the girl had going on. Remy was wondering along that line, as well, but he was hoping to be the one helping with that research. &%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%

POST-A/N: I only have about 8 hand written pages left to type up, and in that will be some editing, and I still need to write the ending. About 4 or 5 more chapters and we're done. I'll try not to make it too much longer.


	18. Rogue's Idea

PRE-A/N: Woot for all you guys! I love ya!

-Ish: I know what you mean. I have a rule about romance novels because of just that: I don't read them in public. Only in my room. Alone. Where I can zone out and concentrate in peace without anyone walking in on me. There are just some things that need to be read alone.

-TheDreamerLady (aka Amanda): How terrible! Wrong math class and shitty classmates. So sorry. Hope it gets better. Oh, and your costume's gonna be interesting, to say the least.

-Dru: The thing with Rogue is that she doesn't really have a purpose to her life. Have you noticed? It bugs the hell out of me. I just think that she has to have some dream, right? So if picked writer, although I read that she loves to cook, too, so I think she might like to become a chef or caterer, or maybe even a children's social worker so that no one would have to go through with their foster/adoptive parents what she did. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Rogue shrugged nonchalantly at Wanda's questioning. "Yeah, Ah was thinkin' about writtin' a goth romance. You know: they'd meet through a mutual friend, at a rave or somethin', leave togethah to go have hot bondage sex, and then the friend reveals himself ta be a voyah, and the book ends with the final acceptance of the friend by the couple an' a voyahritic orgy."

Wanda nodded in approval. John was listening intently and fiddling with the cap on his pen, wishing it were his lighter. Remy had zoned out and had absolutely nothing to say to any of that.

Rogue scowled when she noticed Remy's expression and shoved him out of the way so that she could pay for her new sparkle lamp.

After a second, Wanda frowned and caught up with Rogue at the counter, leaving the boys to have a little chit-chat. "Wait a sec, I don't know any goth who acts like that," she insisted.

"Ah know," Rogue said. "But it's a romance. Doesn' have ta make sense. Besides, mah real idea's way too sappy. If Ah actually said what Ah was thinkin' mah reputation might not recovah."

"It's a romance," Wanda quoted her sarcastically. "There's no such thing as too sappy."

The line inched up and they moved with it.

"Yeah, but too much story an' not enough sex ruins a good romance novel."

Wanda had to agree. She knew a good many romances that had been dragged down by way to much plot.

Remy was still standing by the window displays with St. John, grilling his former teammate for information. "So ya sayin' dat chicks read dese an' get off?"

"Yup."

"Why? I mean, dey're books," he mused, trying to figure out the female psyche. "Why cain' dey just watch porn like normal people?"

"Don't ask me, mate," Pyro shrugged. "The sheila's need it spelled out for 'em, so I help supply it."

Remy shook his head. He was definitely going to have to get his hands on a romance novel so that he could see what he was missing. &%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%

POST-A/N: Okay, I know it's short, but I'm tired and I couldn't think of a good transition into the next tid-bit. So sue me.


	19. Boys

PRE-A/N: Hey! Another double update! Does this make you feel good?

I hereby disclaim anything that's not mine.

STORY:

Sam and Roberto had come back into the mall and were now being stalked and harassed by most of the girls they knew. It was beyond embarrassing. There was a new realm of humiliation being born here. And wow were the girls so not getting the hint that the two boys wanted them to suddenly be sucked into a vortex leading to a dimension of unspeakable torment and torture right then.

"So when are you guys going on your first date?" Jubilee asked giddily.

Sam was bright red and for a second he couldn't think of a damn thing to say. He was sure as hell not talking to any of these gossiping harpies for a long, long time after today. "We'ah not goin' out."

Roberto gave him a nasty look, getting annoyed again about the lack of caring what he thought about the situation. "Look, farm fresh egg boy, you're not the only one here," he said. "Maybe I want to go out with you." He turned to glare at the giggling girls. "Not that it's any business of yours."

They grinned unapologetically, but started to disperse.

"We should give the boys some 'private time'," Jean (A/N: yeah, she's still there; she hasn't gone back to her pinball game yet) said with a smirk no one knew that she possessed before.

Once they were gone Sam breathed a little sigh of relief. "Ya really know how ta scare off the chicks."

Roberto shrugged, refusing to take offense. "They know when they've crossed the line. Sometimes you've just got to point it out to them."

Sam shuffled his feet as they stood in the plaza in front of Dillard's. "Ya know...Ah didn't mean ta... offend you. Ah jest... Ah mean...Ah cain't go out with ya."

Roberto shook his head and gave him a look. "Why not? Afraid to stand up and be seen as you are?"

Sam looked sheepish. "Ah'm outta mah depth, here. Ah don' know what the hell Ah am right now."

Roberto's face softened.

They were quiet for a few seconds before Roberto managed to find the bright spot, such that it was.

"At least we're not alone in this," he said.

Sam nodded. "Ya mind if we're jest two guys who are friends who both happen ta be...whatevah?"

Roberto nodded. "That has to be the first mature thing you've said today."

Sam grinned awkwardly.

Roberto snorted when a thought came to him. "Great. We're Will and Jack," he said, naming the guys from "Will and Grace".

"So Jack, ya wanna break the rules an' go play some video games?" Sam asked wryly as they started walking again.

"Well, considering..." Roberto smirked before realizing what Sam just said. "Hey! I'm not Jack!"

"Yes you are," Sam said. "Wouldn't be surprised if ya started talkin' like him."

"I'm not that gay!" Roberto insisted and punched Sam on his shoulder. Hard.

Sam shoved him back. It was cute, in that weird, male bonding kinda way.

"Aw," Rogue said as the two boys passed in front of Spencer's.

"I know," Wanda agreed. "Kind of makes you wish you had one of your very own."

"Your own personal gay man," Tabitha giggled. "I know it's on my list to Santa!"

"Does bi count?" John asked, putting his arms around both Wanda and Tabitha's shoulders.

"Mmm, close, but no cigar," Tabitha shook her head.

"You'd have to be madly in love with a guy to take away the hetero threat," Wanda backed the blonde up.

Remy looked at Rogue. They shared a look that clearly said: "These people are so insane."

Rogue couldn't help smiling at him. They were in total and perfect agreement for once. And he wasn't trying to seduce her at the same time. It was refreshing. Remy cocked one side of his mouth up.

BY now it was 4:40. Jean telepathically called everyone to the cars. Of course Scott- who'd been stalked by Taryn all day- had to come and pry his girlfriend away from her pinball machine. But Logan had scheduled a DR session for 5:30, before dinner. And group 2 was in charge of getting dinner made that day which included Sam, Jamie, Rahne, Amara, and Remy. This had everything to do with Ororo's chore schedule and nothing what so ever to do with the bet. No one was willing to go against 'Ro.


	20. Waiting

PRE-A/N: Okay, how horrible is this? I was so tired when I was typing the last chapter that I completely forgot where I ended it and had to go look it up. Usually I put a little star next to the spot on the paper where I stopped typing, but I didn't do that. Woops. OH, well.

Oh, and everybody seems to want their own gay man for Christmas, so I'll put you on the mailing list.

-Panther: You just caught me on a day when I was feeling particularly sorry for myself, chic. Didn't mean to be hard on ya. And actually, I'm more myself here than I was at NCH. I don't feel like there's two of me- one at school and one at home. There's just me, at all times. It's pretty nice.

-Ish: Oh, your gay man went away! I'm so sad for you. My friend Tina has her own gay man, too. It was him who first pointed out to me that I was a militant feminist. Who knew? I hope you get another one real soon.

FOR FUTURE REFERENCE: "Blah" = talking, obviously. –Blah-- = thoughts. And [Blah] telepathically talking.

All of the adults of the Institute were waiting for the students when they pulled into the garage with their respective rides. Logan had come back after a big breakfast at the International House of Pancakes, and then hitting some local bars just to make sure he was in the right frame of mind, and had told the Professor what he'd seen that morning. Xavier had then called Storm and Dr. McCoy into his office to tell them and decided on what they should do about the cross-dressing, if they should do anything at all. Hank's answer was to spontaneously draw up a data table and outline the parameters of the bet. He was going to study the little miscreants.

As the transvestite X-Men trooped into the Institute, the adults watched it like a parade. Hank closed his eyes and randomly grabbed two students to question; one male, one female. They were Sam and Tabitha. Amara had been in the process of telling Tabitha about a lesbian who'd hit on her in one of the stores, so she tagged along to finish her story.

"She had on a white and black plaid dress, and one of those circled star thingies-"

"A pentagram?" Hank supplied.

Amara shrugged. "Sure, why not? And she had a vial full of plant stuff on a string around her neck. Isn't that weird?"

"And she hit on you?" Tabitha asked.

"Yeah," Amara nodded. "Well, she announced that she's a lesbian to me, which made me assume that she was trying to figure out my sexual preferences so that she could hit on me. Same thing, in my oppinion."

Sam groaned quietly and hung his head as the three of them followed Dr. McCoy to a spare study room so that he could question them.

-Ah'm fo'evah gonna remembah this as 'Gay Day,'- he thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Roberto was contacting Jean to get some assistance.

[Jean, I need your help,] he thought at her, hoping she understood.

She lifted an eyebrow and nodded, showing that she did. [What's the problem?]

[I want to come out of the closet,] he admitted. [You know, publicly; not just by hearsay and stuff.]

Jean's eyes went wide and starry. She tried to smother a smile, but it didn't work all the way. [That's wonderful, Roberto! You know I have to tell all the girls; they'll want to help too. Ummm...How, exactly, can we help?]

[I, uh, need help trying to figure out what to say,] he said- er, thought. [Considering how some of the guys here are, thing might get...obscene, just with their joking around.]

Jean rolled her eyes, but she had to agree. Not all of the guys here were very mature. [I see what you mean. Rogue would be a good person to talk to for verbal self-defense.]

[Thanks,] Roberto breathed a sigh of relief.

The pair split up until later that night, when Rogue, Kitty, Tabitha, Amara, and Jean (A/N: Yes, the Sirens. I figured that they'd be good at stealth, secrecy, and pouncing only when the time is right; three traits I somehow associate with coming out of the closet. I don't know why) got together to help Roberto figure out what he was going to say.

The verdict for the day wasn't announced at dinner. It was decided that Hank's data table and the information he'd drawn from the two he'd pulled off to question would be the basis for determining who won the bet. Unfortunately, it was an all-or-nothing situation. One mishap on either side, and the game would be lost for everyone. They ate their pot roast with baited breath. The next morning they were to find out who had won.

At breakfast on Sunday, Roberto stood in the doorway of the kitchen, wishing he'd gotten more sleep. Jean gave him the signal as soon as most of the teachers were there. Last night the girls had basically said to be blunt and honest, and to wait for when the adults were watching so that so that the stupider boys (cough Ray cough Bobby cough) would hopefully behave, or so that they'd at least get in trouble. Rogue had helped drill him on what to say should someone (see above coughing fit) decide to make an annoying comment. The women had also elected themselves the brute squad if the boys got out of hand, not to mention, Roberto was armed with note cards. Oh, yes.

The Brazilian cleared his throat. "Um...I, uh, have an announcement."

Everybody quieted down and stared at him, which only served to make him more embarrassed and bumbling than he would have been. Compounded with lack of sleep, his eyesight wasn't the best, and his literacy was down a bit as he tried to read the tiny writing on the top card.

"I- Well, it's not that much of a secret at this point, but, um... I'm..." he squinted down, "homogenous."

There was a dead silence. Jubilee and Jamie started giggling. It was so the wrong word. Jean attempted to shush them, sending Roberto a quick message.

He squinted down at the card. "Oh, right. That's homosexual. I'm gay."

Amara started to giggle, too, even though she'd helped make the note cards. Sam was looking down into his cereal and started to snort, not sure why he found this funny.

Roberto blushed bright red and sat down next to Tabitha.

"You know?" Kitty asked. "That actually went pretty well."

The entire table started laughing. Even Rogue, who'd been trying to stare out into some middle space and not hurt 'Berto's feelings, was having a hard time keeping her mouth even.

After they were done chuckling, a thought occurred to Tabitha that she hadn't realized before. She slung her arm around Roberto's shoulders and hugged him. "You know what this means, don't you?" she asked loudly, so all the table could hear.

"What?" Roberto grimaced.

"It means that all the girls are going to start trying to hook you up with all the other gay guys we know," she answered.

The girls all got quiet for a moment. In that space of time, every female was thinking back through her life and trying to remember the name of a nice, gay guy to introduce Roberto to before everyone started talking at once.

"I know a guy- he's so hot!"

"You should meet Chris who works in the piano store!"

"There's a guy named Rip who Ah hang out with at this club!"

"I met a boy named Tom in CVS!"

"I don't know anyone yet, but I'll find someone for you, I swear!"

Roberto was panicking. He looked down at the teachers and mouthed, 'Help me.' They'd already made an agreement to stay out of it. In no time, Roberto had been set up with three guys to at least meet or call, and there was nothing he could do about it. The rest of the guys at the table were laughing their asses off and making rude comments under their breath. The teasing didn't stop until Dr. McCoy walked in, carrying an antique battle shield in front of him. No one had any idea where he'd gotten it, but he was sure that he'd need the protection when he gave the results of his findings.

POST-A/N: Notice nobody's going to church on Sunday morning. Hmh.


	21. And the Verdict Is

PRE-A/N: This is it, folks. It's been a nice long run, and I'm so glad that you all came and enjoyed this story. Panther and I had a great time writing it, and we're thrilled that you think that we're any good, much less funny and interesting enough to keep you coming back.

This chapter is all mine. Panther has no idea how this will end, because we didn't actually give it a distinct ending when we were writing it. I thought about it for a long time. There were actually a few of you who said that you wanted to see the guys win the bet. There were others of you who were girl power all the way. I took everybody into consideration, but, on the all-or-nothing terms of the bet, I did what I thought was the only fair thing. If you hate the ending, maybe I'll write an alternate one. Maybe. I hate to pander, but I want to keep on everybody's good side, too. Maybe I'll let Panther write the alternate ending. Who knows? I bet hers would be funnier.

&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%

All the students waited, shifting in their seats, dying to know the outcome of the bet.

Hank peeked over the top of the shield and scanned down the length of the table, taking in all of the faces.

"Without preamble," he said, "the girls have it. Sorry, guys, I was pulling for you."

He retreated before the male students could start throwing things at him. The other teachers got up, or stayed seated, in the Professor's case, and vacated the area, too.

At Dr. McCoy's announcement, all of the girls jumped up, vindicated and cheering. The guys were stunned. After all they had gone through yesterday?! The kitchen walls were barely able to hold all of the sound waves that were bouncing around.

"HA!" Jean shouted, jumping up out of her seat and pointing directly into Scott's shocked face. "Now, go clean my SUV, bitch!"

Scott was even more shocked.

Tabitha leaned over and kissed Roberto on the cheek. "I haven't done my laundry this week. Have fun!"

Jubilee laughed triumphantly as she told Jamie that he had to wash the dishes after dinner tonight. Amara informed Sam that he needed to go tidy up her room, then pick all of the hair out of her brush, and make sure that her barrettes and head-bands were sorted by color, size and type. Kurt was going to be spending the day tasting all of Kitty's latest culinary experiments. Bobby was commanded into silence for the next seven hours, and if he couldn't do that, then he would be playing fetch with Rahne. No, she wasn't going to be the one fetching the stick, or whatever else she wanted when the whim struck her.

Rogue had been silently grinning the entire time. She was too busy thinking up interesting forms of torture to be vocal about them just yet. Remy watched her. He couldn't help the little part of him that was eagerly waiting to find out what she was going to do to him. His rational mind knew that it would probably suck major ass, but that part of him that went after Rogue when she was in her worst moods because that was when she was most fun was panting in anticipation.

When everyone vacated the kitchen to start their day, some of hard labor, some of joyful tormenting, Rogue got up to follow, heading toward her room. Remy followed. She turned to face him in one of the hallways that was left deserted.

"What?" she asked.

"Cain' I jus' enjoy ya company, cherie?" he said with his characteristic grin.

"No."

He made a show of posing nonchalantly in front of her. He let that grin slowly melt into its purest, most seductively sexual, smirking form. "Wanna see what you got planned fo' me, chere. What's it gonna be? How bad's it gonna hurt?"

She took a half-threatening step toward the boastful Cajun. "You so eagah ta get yo time as a slave started, swamp rat?"

"De sooner I get started, the sooner I get done, non?" he asked.

Rogue shifted her weight to one side and decided to be honest. "Ah haven't thought of anythin' suitin' mah tastes yet."

Remy shifted closer, gazing down into her eyes. "I c'n t'ink o' some real nice t'ings dat might suit ya tastes."

Just like yesterday, she couldn't help smiling back up at him, but it was in challenge this time. She reached her hand up and held Remy's chin gently between her thumb and first two fingers. "That ain't what Ah was thinkin' of, swamp rat."

Just as she was standing there, inspiration struck. She looked from his amazing eyes, not completely cleaned of all the eyeliner from yesterday, down to his goatee. That horrid, wretched, awful, ugly hank of hair he was trying to pass off as a real style. A second, much more evil smile grew on her lips. "Ah got it."

Her emotions had shifted, Remy noticed. But was that a good thing, or something he should worry about? "Care ta share it wit' me?"

Rogue tugged slightly on the goatee. "This. Ah want it gone."

"What?!" he asked, backing up.

She nodded. "Shave it off."

He snorted at her. "Not a chance, chere," he told her bluntly, starting to walk off.

Rogue caught up with him easily. She grabbed his arm, spinning him around, the same evil grin on her face. "Ah command you, Remy LeBeau. Shave that ugly-ass goatee off...an ya free fo' the rest o' the week. That's all Ah want is that goatee gone."

Five minutes later everyone who was within hearing and seeing distance was witness to the strangest thing they'd ever seen at the Institute. Rogue was chasing Remy down for once, instead of the other way around. She was insisting that he do something, and he was fighting it every step of the way. She dogged his heels and pressed her case every bit as passionately as he did her.

Remy finally managed to lose her for about an hour or so before dinner that night. Unfortunately, when she showed up to eat, she kept her eyes trained on him the entire time. He was trying to make his escape, but Bobby and Kurt always seemed to be where he needed to move to. It only took him three tries to figure out that she had somehow coerced them into helping her, the little traitors.

"Get ovah here, LeBeau!" Rogue called from the sink. She pulled a razor- one of his, no less- out from her pocket and held it up as half of the students still in the kitchen looked on.

He didn't want to look like a damn wuss in front of everybody.... His pride was having a little war with his ego. Who would have thought that the two were totally different things? He'd always assumed that they were the same until now, when Miss Slice-n-Dice over there.

Without a word, Remy walked over to the sink, yanked the razor out of Rogue's hand, and turned the water on hot. Never taking his angry eyes off of hers, he wet the blade and went at his chin. Going by feel and intuition alone, he shaved off his goatee. He nicked himself a grand total of five times, glaring down at Rogue all the while.

"Satisfied?" he asked, throwing the razor angrily into the sink.

Rogue switched the water to cold and grabbed a paper towel off the roll. She ran it under the cold water and then used it to wipe the spots of blood off of Remy's chin, smiling the whole time.

"Yup," she answered, going up on her toes and setting a light kiss on the tip of his newly bare jaw line, the ever-stay lipstick helping to create a temporary shield for his skin against hers so that he didn't even feel the tiny bit of energy she absorbed.

She turned off the water and left him standing there, completely bewildered. As she went through the doorframe, he finally reclaimed some sense.

"Are you schizophrenic?!" he yelled at her back. "Multiple personalities?! Manic depressive?! PMSing!?! Are de psyches in yo head havin' a field day?!?"

The only thing Rogue yelled back was: "Don' let that thing grow back or Ah'll jus' make ya shave it off again!"

And thus ends the tale of EGGROLLS, COCK, AND THINGS, when the X-Men decided to cross-dress for the day.

POST-A/N: Final thoughts? If you didn't read the PRE, go do that.

Oh, and the story's not really over. Is it ever? This is just one small piece of these people's lives. One episode. It's just all I have for now. There's also New Year's Eve, and the one that Panther and I are working on writing now which mostly centers around Sam and Roberto, but there will be, of course, a healthy dose of Romy in there. We're fanatic Romy-shippers. I just need to put those stories up. It probably won't be until after Oct. 11, though. That's when I go home for Fall Break.


	22. EPILOGUE Pinball

PRE-AN: Okay, so the story is technically over, but this just came to me—months after I finish typing the end of the story, of course—and I had to share. I hope this is good, and brings you all joy.

EPILOGUE

"Jean?" Scott touched her shoulder gently. "I think we need to talk."

Kitty, Tabitha, Rogue, Bobby, the Professor, Ororo, and Hank were all there to back him up. The group stood in the Rec. Room, watching Jean pound away at the pinball machine she'd begged the Professor to add to the ranks of games in the room. She swore that it would be great for everyone to be able to revel in the hand-eye coordination-building game. Unfortunately, in the weeks that followed, Jean refused to let anyone else near the pinball game. This caused the obvious concerns.

DING! PING! BONG! Whizzzzzz!

"What is it, Scott? You're distracting me."

Her boyfriend looked back at the rest of the intervention crew. They nodded encouragement, and Scott went on.

"You see, Jean. We're all worried about you. You haven't been yourself lately. We think...well, we think that you might have a problem."

"Problem?" Jean asked, never letting her eyes off of the shiny metal ball she was sent bouncing around the little maze with jabs of her hands against the buttons on the side of her machine.

"Jean," Professor Xavier said calmly. "Why don't you stop playing for a minute, sit down and talk with us?"

"I can't Professor. I'm almost about to break my high score. I can't go yet—No! NO!" she shouted as the ball slipped passed her paddles and sank into the goal.

"Jean." Scott took her by the shoulders and started to turn her around. "Come on. We all want to talk to you."

Jean fought him. "But I can still win! I can still beat my score! Just let me have one more game, and I'll listen to anything you want."

"Jean!" Kitty went up to the older girl and slapped her. She had seen it in dozens of movies, so it must be helpful. "Snap out of it! You're like addicted to pinball games! You need help!"

"I'm not addicted," Jean scoffed, her hand resting on her cheek where she had been unnecessarily slapped. "How stupid is that? You can't get addicted to pinball. It's just a game. There's no way I'm addicted."

"So why can't you stop playing?" Bobby asked. "You never let anybody else have a turn on it."

"It's my machine! You touch it, you die!" Jean shouted.

"Ah-ha!" Tabitha pointed. "See? Addicted!"

"I am not addicted!" the junkie denied. "I can quit playing any time I want."

"Jean, it's okay," Hank soothed her. "While I've never actually heard of someone becoming addicted to pinball, I assume that it's the same basic compulsion that addicts people to slot games in Las Vegas. Don't worry. We'll get you the best of help."

"I don't need your help!" Jean insisted. "I don't have a problem."

"Jean, I've spoken with the dean at the university," Xavier said. "She informed me that your grades are beginning to slip. You're skipping classes. And for what, Jean? Pinball?"

"It's not that I'm addicted," Jean said. "It's just that... the little ball in there. It's taunting me. It keeps bouncing around, going wherever the paddles push it. Then it gets evil, ya know? And it gets by me. I have to show it who's the boss. I'm the boss, damnit. Me!"

"Jean," Rogue said. "Ya've officially gone off the deep end. Ah'll call Wanda an' ask how the meals are in the loony bin. Ah got a feelin' yo gonna be in there a loooooong while, girl."

"I'm not crazy! I just want to play my pinball in peace!"

"Professor?" Scott asked.

The old man nodded gravely. He had been afraid that this would happen. "I'm sorry, Jean."

Hank and Scott rushed the young telepath, pulling her away from the pinball machine. She struggled and fought when she saw Rogue and Tabitha come forward. Tabby had a handful of bombs, and Rogue had a sledgehammer. No one was sure where she'd gotten the sledgehammer. No one wanted to ask. But together, the two girls trashed the pinball machine, accompanied by the screams of rage and grief emanating from Jean.

When they were done, Jean sagged into the arms of her boyfriend, and he carried her out to the awaiting car. Dr. McCoy then drove the seriously disturbed girl to the nearest mental institution to receive the finest help available. She underwent shock therapy. Books were written about her condition, which Jean—once she was stable again—made sure she got at least 15 of the profits from.

Let this be a warning to all those who love pinball...too much.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

POST-AN: I hope you got as many chuckles out of that as I did.


End file.
